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^^^  THE 


BOOK  OF^PEACE: 


»  # 


A     COLLECTION     OF     ESSAYS 


1k- 


WlR"AI^D   PEACE. 


...  .♦ 


.^  BOSTON:  * 

GEORGE  C.  BECKWITH,  m  CORNHILL. 

^   PHILADELPHIA :— PERKINS  AND  PURVES. 
NEW   YORK:— M.    w!   DODD. 
PORTLAND:— WM.  HYDE. 

1845. 


CONTENTS 


No.  1  .—Cause  of  Peace,  .   .   .  i 1- 

"    2.— A  Sketch  of  War :  what  h  w,  and  what  it  does, 9 

''    '^. — Testimonies  aeainst  War, ^j^  .   .   .  21 

"    4.— War  and  the  Bible/ VT  ...  33 

"    5.— War  Curable, 37 

"    6.— Four  Aspects  of  War,    ..^ ■   T 49 

"    7. — Universal  Peace  ;  by  David  Bogue,  D.  D., 53 

*'    8. — Military  Discipline, 66 

"    9.— Erasmus  on  War, .- 77 

"    10. — Russian  Campaign, 81 

"    11. — Union  in  Peace, ^ 93 

"    12. — Military  Preparations, 101 

"  13. — Progress  of  Peace,  or  how  much  already  gained  in  the  cause, .  105 

"    14.— Waste  of  Property  by  War, 113 

"    15.— Appeal  to  Cities, ^  .  125 

«  16. — War  Inconsistent  with  ChrisUanity ;  oy  Howard  Malcom,  D.  D.  1S9 

"  17. — War  Unlawful  under  the  Christian  Dispensation  j  by  J.  J.Gumey,137 

"    18.— Chalmers  on  Peace, 149 

«  19.— Chief  Evil  of  War  j  by  WUliam  E.  Channing,  D.  D.,   .   .   .   .  167 

«    20.— Loss  of  Life  by  War, 161 

"    21.— Witnesses  for  Peace 173 

"    22.— Views  of  War;  by  Robert  Hall, 177 

"  23.— The  Early  Christians  on  War;  by  Thomas  Clarkson,    .   .  .   .  181 

"    24.— War-Dcbts  of  Europe 193 

"    25.— Results  of  one  War, 197 

"    26  — Neckar  on  Peace, ^ 201 

"    27.— Peace  PracUcable, "; 209 

"    28  — SubsUtutes  for  War, 213 

"    29.— Arbitration  as  a  Substitute  for  War, 217 

"    30.— Congress  qf  Nations,  .   , 229 

*'  31.— Extinction  of.  W'a?;  by  lion.  JosiabQuyicy,  L.L.  D.,^.   .   .253 

"    32  —War  Unchris'titm,    ...'..-..   .-*.  •. '^.    .    .  257 

"  33.— Insensibility  to  the  Evils  of  Wa/;  by  W.  E.  Channing,  D.  D.,  269 

"    34. — Claims. cf  li'ftar^  ©ji  all -ChriKtians » 277 

"  35  —The  onV  Rcii 'e  jy:  .or-.War^  by  W.  E.  Chaining,  D.  D.,  .    .    .  289 

"  36.— A  Solemn  Kevim  of  W'ar  jbyNCah'^Voreester,  D.  D.,  .   .   .  293 

«    37.— Sieges, j,  ....  306 

"  38.— A  Glimpse  of  War ;  b^-  W.  E.  Channuifc  D.  D.,    .  m  .   .  .  313 

«    39.— Military  Hospitals, 825 

«    40.— Safety  of  Pacific  Principles, 333 

«    41.— W..  ► 357 

*    4*£-Cla  on  Women 361 

«    43il.8ol.  :  by  William  Ladd, 373 

-    44  —The   liaul..-Fa-id f  ....  393 

*'    45.— lueffiracy  of  War  j  by  Hon.  William  Jay,  ...  * 397 

«    46.— Militia  Drills 4O9 

**  47.— United  Stales  Navy— What  is  its  usfe  ?  by  Samuel  E  Coues,  .  413 

*'    48.— Mi'^lakr-j  j>Ko«it  PeFCP ^j. 

"  49.— p.                                              Geo.  C.  heckwilh*   !!!!.'!!  425 

"    60. — f:r  ward  Malcom,  D.  D., 433 

"    51.— W 449 

"  ftt — W                    :!canh,  or  the  Influence  of  War  on  Domestic 

*'  53,— Th(    ..                 •"' "f  Nations  ;  by  Charles  Sumner  *   .*  .*   .*  *  559 


I 


c^ 


»  'PREFACE. 


There  has  been,  since  the  time  of  the  gifted  Erasmus, 
a  great  deal  of  eloquent  writing  on  Peace ;  and  the  follow- 
ing pages  contain  the  best  productions  on  the  subject  not 
only  of  past  ages,  but  of  our  own.  No  theme  has  ever 
waked  a  purer  or  loftier  inspiration  ;  and  on  no  topic  in  the 
whole  range  of  morals,  theology,  or  general  literature,  can 
there  be  found  finer  specimens  of  taste  and  eloquence.  We 
have  also  culled  from  a  wide  as  well  as  luxuriant  field ; — 
from  the  gardens  of  intellect  and  learning  in  both  hemis- 
pheres, from  some  of  the  best  writers  in  the  last  three  cen- 
turies, from  men  of  every  faith,  Protestant  and  Catholic, 
Orthodox  and  Unitarian,  Episcopal,  Baptist  and  Presbyte- 
rian. The  subject  is  itself  a  sort  of  Delos,  whither  the  best 
spirits  of  every  party,  creed  and  clime  gather  to  blend  in 
sweet  and  hallowed  sympathy ;  and  these  pages  exhibit  a 
constellation  of  the  peaceful  pleiads  pouring  their  mingled 
splendors  on  this  common  theme  of  religion,  humanity  and 
Christian  patriotism. 

We  have  studied  the  utmost  brevity  possible,  and  have 
sometimes  condensed  quite  a  volume  into  a  short  essay, 
without  the  omission  of  any  essential  argument,  illustra- 
tion or  fact.  Some  of  these  tracts  are  of  necessity  selec- 
tions, yet  give  both  the  sentiments  and  language  of  their 
respective  authors.  We  have  only  condensed  for  the  sake 
of  greater  brevity,  economy  and  force.  The  work  is  truly 
multum    in   parvo,    a  thesaurus  of  information  on  peace, 

248934 


PREFACE. 


contain ing  a  far  greater  amount  of  facts,  statistics  and 
arguments  dk  its  various  topics,  than  our  own  or  any  other 
language  can  furnish  in  tlii?ice  the  compass. 

Hardly  any  references  are  given,  because  they  could  not 
be  without  occupying  too  much  space  for  such  a  work  ;  but 
we  have  authority,  good  and  ample,  for  the  most  astounding 
statements  in  this  volume,  and  our  readers  may  rely  on  the 
substantial  accuracy  of  them  all.  We  cannot  flatter  our- 
selves, that  they  will  assent  at  once  to  every  position  here 
taken  on  a  subject  so  vast,  and  of  such  various  aspects  and 
bearings ;  but  we  feel  quite  sure,  that  every  intelligent,  fair- 
minded  Christian  will  readily  respond  to  nine  in  ten,  if  not 
to  ninety-nine  in  a  hundred  of  the  sentiments  enforced,  and 
that  even  in  the  remaining  case  there  will  be  found  a  kind 
and  Christian  spirit,  such  as  an  Apostle  would  enjoin,  and 

a  martyr  breathe. 

G.  C.  B. 

Office  op  the  Am.  Peace  Soc, 
Boston,  July    1845. 


No.  I. 


THE 


CAUSE   OF   PEACE 


The  cause  of  peace  is  as  old  as  Christianity.  Ancient 
prophets,  in  foretelling  the  Messiah's  reign,  caught  a  distant 
glimpse  of  its  glory;  and  its  principles,  embodied  by  our 
Savior  in  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  thickly  scattered 
throughout  the  New  Testament,  were  so  strictly  put  in 
practice  by  the  early  Christians,  that  not  a  few  of  them 
went  to  the  stake  rather  than  bear  arms,  on  the  supposition 
of  its  being  inconsistent  with  their  profession  as  disciples 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  But  the  church,  even  before  her 
union  with  the  state  under  Constantine  in  the  fourth 
century,  had  sadly  degenerated  in  this  as  in  other  respects; 
and,  ever  since  that  fatal  era,  she  has  lent  her  sanction  to 
the  custom  of  war,  with  little  thought  of  its  being  incom- 
patible with  her  religion  of  peace.  Erasmus,  the  morning- 
star  of  the  Reformation,  wrote  in  behalf  of  this  cause  with 
an  eloquence  worthy  of  the  first  scholar  in  Christendom; 
and,  though  his  voice  was  little  heeded  by  the  warring 
Christians  of  that  age,  the  seed  sown  by  his  hand  has 
begun,  in  the  present  century,  to  spring  up  more  or  less 
among  Christians  of  every  name,  and  to  promise  in  the 
end  a  rich  and  glorious  harvest.  —  Specific  efforts  in  this 
cause  are  of  recent  date.  The  first  effectual  appeal  was 
made  in  a  pamphlet  published  in  December,  1814 ;  and 
the  first  Peace  Society  in  modern  times  was  organized  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  during  the  summer  of  1815,  and 
followed,  in  eight  or  ten  months,  by  one  in  Massachusetts, 
another  in  Ohio,  and  a  still  more  important  one  in  London, 
all  without  any  knowledge  of  each  other's  existence ;  a 
striking  proof  that  God  had  himself  prepared  the  way. 
Similar  societies  have  since  been  multiplied  in  England 
and  America.  Kindred  efforts  have  been  made  to  some 
extent  in  France,  in  Switzerland,  and  other  parts  of 
Christendom ;  and  their  influence  has  reached  the  ex- 
tremities of  the  civilized  world,  and  been  felt  in  some 
degree  by  nations  never  blest  with  the  light  of  the  gospel. 
The  American  Peace  Society,  organized  in  1828    as   a 


2  TUE    CAUSE    OF   PEACE. 

bond  of  union  among  all  the  friends  of  peace  throughout 
our  country,  and  soliciting  cooperation  without  regard  to 
sect  or  party,  has  been  cordially  espoused  by  some  among 
all  the  religious  denominations  in  the  land,  and  the  pulpita 
of  almost  every  sect  have  actually  been  occupied  more  or 
less  by  its  agents  in  pleading  the  claims  of  this  great 
evangelical  enterprise. 

I.  How  MUCH  ACCOMPLISHED  ALREADY. SuCCCSS  in  this 

cause  has  been  much  beyond  the  means  used,  compara- 
tively greater  than  in  any  kindred  enterprise.  Few  are 
fully  aware  how  much  has  already  been  gained.  In  little 
more  than  twenty  years  preceding  the  commencement  of 
our  efforts,  the  wars  of  Christendom  are  supposed  to  have 
wasted  more  than  $30,000,000,000,  and  sacrificed  no  less 
than  nine  millions  of  lives;  but  its  general  peace  has  been 
preserved  since  1815  by  the  various  agencies  and  influ- 
ences which  constitute  the  cause  of  peace.  The  sentiments 
of  the  civilized  world  on  this  subject  are  very  different 
now  from  what  they  were  fifty  years  ago;  and  difficulties, 
which  would  then  have  involved  nations  in  conflict,  have 
frequently  been  settled  with  scarce  a  thought  of  shedding 
each  other's  blood  for  the  purpose:  Leading  cabinets  have 
become  far  more  pacific  than  formerly  ;  their  services  have 
generously  been  tendered,  in  a  variety  of  instances,  to  avert 
the  threatened  horrors  of  war ;  and  other  expedients  than 
a  resort  to  the  sword  for  the  adjustment  of  international 
difficulties,  are  fast  coming  to  form  the  established  policy 
of  Christendom.  Let  this  process  continue  fifty  years 
longer,  and  it  will  be  well-nigh  impossible  to  involve 
civilized  nations  in  war.  ' 

II.  The  sole  object  of  the  peace  cause.  —  All  the 
social  relations  of  mankind  may  be  reduced  to  three 
classes; — the  relation  of  individuals  to  one  another;  the 
relation  of  individuals  to  society,  of  citizens  to  govern- 
ment; and  the  relation  of  one  society  or  government  to 
another.  The  principles  of  peace  are  applicable  to  all 
these  relations;  but  the  cause  of  peace  is  concerned  only 
with  the  intercourse  of  governments^  and  aims  merely  to 
prevent  war  between  nations. 

Nor  is  such  a  restriction  peculiar  ;  for  it  forms  the  very 
basis  of  united  action  among  the  friends  of  temperance. 
The  principles  of  that  reform  are  applicable  to  all  kinds 
of  drink  and  food ;  but,  in  the  cause  of  temperance,  they 
are  restricted  to  the  use  of  alcoholic  or  intoxicating 
liquors.      Its   friends   may,  each   for   himself,  extend   it^ 


THE    CAUSE    OF    PEACE.  3 

principles  as  far  as  they  please  ;  but  the  cause  itself  does 
not  meddle  with  tea  or  coffee,  tobacco,  or  opium,  or  ani- 
mal food.  It  may  be  said,  for  it  has  been,  that  its  principles, 
if  carried  out,  would  lead  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  such 
articles ;  but  for  such  a  conclusion,  whether  right  or 
wrong,  the  friends  of  temperance  do  not,  in  their  associated 
capacity,  make  themselves  responsible.  They  go  merely 
for  the  prevention  of  drunkenness ;  and,  however  extensive 
or  important  may  be  the  legitimate  application  of  their 
principles,  their  cause  is  concerned  with  applying  them 
solely  to  the  use  of  such  drinks  as  will  intoxicate. 

It  is  thus  with  the  cause  of  peace.  However  extensive- 
ly applicable  its  principles  may  be,  we  aim,  as  a  society  of 
peacemakers,  at  the  application  of  them  only  to  the  con- 
duct of  one  nation  towards  another,  and  shall  accomplish 
our  whole  object  by  persuading  them  to  regulate  their 
intercourse  on  the  pacific  principles  of  the  gospel.  If  it 
be  said,  that  wars  can  never  cease  so  long  as  capital 
punishments  disgrace  the  statute-books  of  Christendom, 
and  strife  continues  among  individuals,  families,  and 
churches,  we  reply,  that  tea,  and  coffee,  and  tobacco, 
and  theatres,  and  gaming-houses,  are  all  so  many  incentives 
to  intemperance,  yet  no  one  deems  it  any  part  of  the 
temperance  cause  to  meddle  with  such  things. 

This  singleness  of  aim  excludes  a  variety  of  objects 
which  have  sometimes  been  attributed  to  the  cause  of 
peace.  If  our  only  province  is  the  intercourse  of  nations, 
and  our  sole  object  the  prevention  of  international  wars, 
then  we  have,  as  friends  of  peace,  nothing  to  do  with 
capital  punishments,  or  the  right  of  personal  self-defence, 
or  the  question  of  discarding  all  physical  force  from  the 
government  of  states,  schools,  and  families.  We  go  mere- 
ly against  war ;  and  war  is  "  a  contest  by  force  between 
nations."  It  is  not  only  conflict  unto  death,  but  conflict 
between  governments  alone ;  and  neither  a  parent  or 
teacher  chastising  his  child  or  his  pupil,  nor  a  father 
defending  his  family  against  the  midnight  assassin,  nor  a 
traveller  resisting  the  highway  robber,  nor  a  ruler  inflict- 
ing the  penalties  of  law  upon  a  criminal,  can  properly  be 
called  war,  both  because  in  most  of  these  cases  there  is 
really  no  conflict,  and  because  the  parties  in  them  all  are 
either  individuals,  or  government  and  individuals,  not 
nations  alone.  The  cause  of  peace  is  not  encumbered 
with  such  cases,  but  confines  itself  to  the  single  object 
of  abolishing  the  custom  of  international  war. 


4  THE    CAUSE    OP    PEACE. 

III.  Common  principles,  or  basis  of  union  among 
THE  friends  of  PEACE.  —  If  perfcct  identity  of  views 
were  necessary  to  concert  of  action,  there  could  be  no 
such  concert  in  any  cause.  Such  identity  does  not  exist 
in  the  cause  of  temperance  or  anti-slavery,  of  Bibles, 
tracts,  or  education,  in  any  enterprise  of  benevolence  or 
reform.  There  is  all  the  similarity  of  views  requisite  to 
union  of  efforts ;  and  it  would  be  easy  to  find  among  the 
friends  of  peace,  a  platform  of  common  principles  suffi- 
ciently broad  for  them  all  to  stand  upon,  and  work  together 
in  consistent,  harmonious,  effective  cooperation. 

1,  We  all  regard  war  as  a  mass  of  evils;  as  one  of  the 
worst  scourges,  if  not  the  very  worst,  that  ever  smote  our 
world ;  as  extremely  pernicious  in  all  its  appropriate 
influences  on  the  temporal  and  the  spiritual  interests  of 
mankind. — 2.  We  hold  war  to  be  morally  wrong;  wrong 
in  its  origin,  in  its  principles,  in  its  motives,  in  its  means, 
and  all  its  legitimate  results ;  as  a  crying  offence  against 
God,  and  the  chief  sin  of  all  ages  and  climes.  The  whole 
war-system  we  regard  as  a  tissue  of  folly,  guilt,  and 
mischief.  —  3.  We  all  think  war  impossible  without  deep 
criminality  on  one  side,  if  not  on  both,  and  sure  in  its 
progress  to  involve  both  parties  in  a  series  of  the  worst 
crimes ;  for  every  war,  however  begun,  is  prosecuted  on 
each  side  with  essentially  the  same  feelings,  and  by  the 
very  same  deeds,  —  4.  We  agree  in  our  views  concerning 
the  moral  character  of  nearly  all  the  wars  that  have  ever 
occurred.  We  unite  in  condemning  every  war  of  pride 
or  jealousy,  of  avarice  or  ambition,  of  revenge,  prevention, 
or  redress ;  and  few,  if  any  other  wars  can  be  found  on 
the  pages  of  secular  history.  —  5.  Even  wars  called 
defensive,  not  a  few  of  us  regard  as  in  all  cases  contrary 
to  the  gospel,' and  none  of  us  allow  them  except  as  a  last 
*esort  for  the  preservation  of  life ;  for,  if  any  other 
expedient,  any  amount  of  injury  short  of  our  o\vn  destruc- 
tion, will  suffice,  the  lowest  views  of  peace  would  not 
justify  a  resort  to  the  sword.  — 6.  We  think,  also,  that 
nations  ought,  like  individuals,  to  regulate  their  intercourse 
by  the  gospel ;  and  we  have  only  to  ascertain  and  apply  its 
principles.  —  7.  Such  an  application  of  the  gospel  to 
international  intercourse  constitutes  the  sum  of  all  the 
means  we  would  employ  in  tlie  cause  of  peace.  —  8.  We 
believe,  too,  that  war  can  be  banished  entirely  from 
Christian  nations :  but  we  think  specific  means  indispensa- 
ble for  the  purpose,  and  the  use  of  them  incumbent  on  all 


THE    CAUSE    OF    PEACE.  6 

the  inliabitailts  of  Christendom,  especially  on  the  professed 
disciples  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

We  differ,  then,  only  on  a  single  point  of  this  great 
cause  —  the  moral  character  of  wars  strictly  defensive. 
Even  this  difference  is  mainly  theoretical ;  for  we  unite  in 
condemning  most  of  the  wars  called  defensive,  and  can 
find  very  few  that  any  friend  of  peace  would  attempt  to 
justify.  We  may  disagree  concerning  the  strict  inviola- 
bility of  human  life,  on  the  subject  of  capital  punishments, 
respecting  the  right  of  the  magistrate  to  use  the  sword  in 
suppressing  mobs  and  insurrections ;  but  these  points  form 
no  part  of  our  cause,  and  it  is  no  more  responsible  for  the 
views  of  its  friends  concerning  them,  than  the  cause  of 
temperance  is  for  the  religious  or  political  creed  of  its 
supporters.  We  are  concerned  solely  with  the  intercourse 
of  one  government  with  another ;  and  these  questions  be- 
long not  to  the  cause  of  peace,  but  to  the  internal  opera- 
tions of  government,  to  its  treatment  of  its  own  subjects. 

IV.  Sphere  and  mode  of  action.  —  Christendom  is 
our  only  field.  Our  efforts  are  restricted  to  countries  blest 
with  the  light  of  revelation,  and  our  hopes  will  be  fully 
realized,  when  wars  shall  cease  wherever  Christianity  pre- 
vails. 

All  our  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object  are 
included  in  a  right  application  of  the  gospel  to  the  inter- 
course of  nations.  But  communities  are  composed  of 
individuals  ;  and  the  pacific  influences  of  the  gospel  must 
be  brought  to  bear  first  upon  individuals,  in  rectifying  their 
views  on  this  subject,  and  in  forming  such  a  public  senti- 
ment as  shall  discard  the  war-system,  and  introduce  pacific 
expedients  for  the  adjustment  of  all  international  disputes. 
Public  opinion  is  the  grand  instrument ;  it  does  more  to 
control  Christendom  than  all  her  bayonets ;  and,  could  it 
through  the  civilized  world  be  arrayed  against  this  custom 
as  it  is  now  in  New  England  against  the  kindred  practice 
of  duelling,  rulers  would  soon  find  means  enough  to  settle 
their  differences  without  the  sword. 

We  would  take  the  best  measures  thus  to  change  the 
war-sentiments  of  mankind ;  but  we  decline,  for  many 
reasons,  the  use  of  tests  and  pledges  for  this  purpose. 
1.  The  pulpit  we  would  place  in  the  van  of  our  auxiliaries; 
for  it  is  in  the  power  of  ministers  alone  to  revolutionize 
on  this  subject  the  views  of  all  Christendom.  To  this 
duty  we  urge  them  by  the  strongest  motives ;  for  the  living 


6  THE    CAUSE    OF    PEACE. 

voice  is  needed  to  waken  inquiry,  and  preparS  tlie  way  for 
all  our  other  instrumentalities.  —  2.  Tlie  press,  an  engine 
of  vast  moral  power,  we  would  set  and  keep  at  work  until, 
through  books,  and  pamphlets,  and  tracts,  and  newspaperH, 
and  every  class  of  periodicals,  it  shall  speak  in  the  ear  of 
all  reading  communities  on  this  subject.  —  3.  We  would 
especially  enlist  churches  of  every  name.  We  regard 
them  as  societies  appointed  by  God  himself  for  the  uni- 
versal spread  of  peace ;  and  they  should  all  examine  this 
subject  till  their  views  are  settled,  and  then  let  the  world 
know  what  they  think  concerning  the  incompatibility  of 
war  with  their  religion.  They  should  also  train  up  all 
under  their  care  in  the  principles  of  peace,  pray  much  for 
its  universal  prevalence,  and  hold  forth  before  the  whole 
world  the  light  of  their  own  consistent  example.  Let  them 
do  only  these  things,  and  war  would  soon  cease  from 
Christendom  forever.  —  4.  We  would  also  solicit  the  aid 
Of  pious  parents,  of  teachers  in  Sabbath  schools,  and 
instructors  in  all  Christian  seminaries  of  learning.  Here 
are  the  chief  nurseries  of  peace;  and  in  these  must  one 
day  be  trained  up  a  generation  of  such  peacemakers  as 
shall  spontaneously  keep  the  peace  of  the  world.  —  5.  Still 
more  do  we  rely  on  women.  They  mould  the  ch-iracter 
of  the  young ;  and,  if  they  will  infuse  the  principles  of 
peace  into  every  mind  under  their  care,  wars  must  of 
necessity  cease  with  the  very  next  generation.  —  G.  The 
formation  of  peace  societies  we  do  not  urge ;  but, 
wherever  is  found  a  degree  of  intelligence  and  interest 
sufficient  to  sustain  them  well,  we  would  encourage  a 
simple  organization. 

We  insist  on  the  necessity  of  means.  God  accomplishes 
no  ends  without  them ;  and  the  means  of  his  own  appoint- 
ment are  just  as  necessary  for  the  spread  of  peace  as  for 
the  conversion  of  the  world.  Only  such  means  we  aim  to 
use ;  and  we  would  fain  keep  at  work  in  this  cause  a 
system  of  operations  very  like  those  in  the  temperance 
reform.  Agents,  and  tracts,  and  periodicals,  and  other 
instrumentalities,  must  be  employed  on  a  large  scale ;  and 
these  \yill  require,  not  so  much  money  as  the  leading 
enterprises  of  Christian  benevolence,  but  far  more  than 
most  persons  suppose.  It  would  cost  some  $5,000  to  put  a 
smgle  tract,  at  one  cent  apiece,  in  every  family  of  New 
England  alone,  and  about  $30,000  for  the  whole  country, 
besides  a  still  larger  sum  to  sustain  such  other  instru- 
mentalities as  the  cause  demands.      These   funds  raust 


THE    CAUSE    OF    PEACE.  7 

come,  if  at  all,  from  the  professed  friends  of  peace ;  and 
the  Christian  community  ought  to  form  plans  and  habits 
of  regularly  contributing  to  this  cause,  as  to  kindred 
enterprises  of  benevolence  and  reform. 

V.  Possibility  of  abolishing  war.  —  Our  argument 
here  is  short.  No  fault  of  individuals  or  communities  is 
incorrigible  under  the  means  of  God's  appointment ;  cus- 
toms very  like  war,  such  as  knight-errantry  and  judicial 
combats,  have  already  been  done  away ;  certain  kinds  of 
war  have  actually  been  abolished,  and  even  international 
war  has  lost  some  of  its  worst  features,  and  undergone 
changes  greater  than  would  now  suffice  for  its  entire 
abolition  ;  a  vast  variety  of  causes  are  at  work  through 
the  world,  sufficient  under  God  for  its  ultimate  extinction ; 
and  God  has  settled  the  question  by  promising  an  era  when 
"  nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  sliall 
they  learn  war  any  more." 

VI.  Substitutes  for  war.  —  We  would  not  leave 
nations  without  means  of  protection  or  redress  ;  and,  in 
recommending  pacific  expedients,  we  propose  not  the 
sacrifice,  but  the  greater  security  of  their  rights,  just  as 
the  substitution  of  law,  with  its  courts  and  prisons,  in 
place  of  private  revenge,  has  every  where  increased  the 
security  both  of  peison  and  property.  There  are  better 
means  for  such  ends  than  the  sword.  1.  Negotiation. 
Nations  could,  if  they  would,  settle  all  their  differences  by 
amicable  agreement  among  themselves ;  and,  should  public 
opinion  require  them  to  do  so,  war  would  seldom,  if  ever, 
occur.  —  2.  Arbitration.  When  the  parties  become  too 
much  excited  to  adjust  the  matter  themselves,  they  may 
refer  it  to  an  umpire  mutually  chosen ;  and  this  expedient 
alone,  if  properly  used,  would  prevent  more  than  nine 
wars  in  ten.  —  3.  Mediation.  When  rulers  withdraw  from 
official  intercourse,  and  think  they  must  fight  their  quarrel 
out,  a  third  power,  friendly  to  both,  may  offer  its  services 
as  mediator ;  an  expedient  frequently  tried  of  late,  rarely 
without  success,  and  sufficient,  if  employed  in  season,  to 
prevent  more  than  forty-nine  wars  out  of  fifty.  Christen- 
dom is  fast  coming  to  adopt  these  substitutes  as  her  settled 
policy,  and  would  do  so  very  soon,  should  the  people 
universally  demand  it.  —  4.  But  the  perfection  of  expe- 
dients would  be  a  congress  of  nations.  Nor  would  such  a 
tribunal  be  an  entirely  new  experiment ;  for  its  principle 
has  been  in  occasional,  successful  operation  for  ages.  It 
was  adopted   in   the  Amphictyonic   Council    of    ancient 


8  THE    CAUSE    or    PEACE. 

Greece ;  it  has  been  at  work,  with  well-nigh  complete 
success,  in  the  Confederacy  of  Switzerland,  for  more  than 
five  hundred  years;  and,  in  less  than  two  centuries,  there 
have  been  fifty  congret^scs  in  Europe,  all  more  or  less  on 
the  principle  of  such  a  tribunal  as  we  propose.  The  thing 
caw  be  done,  and  iuiU  be,  whenever  the  voice  of  Christen- 
dom shall  demand  it. 

VII.  Testimonies  to  the  cause  of  peace.  —  A  dis- 
tinguished English  missionary  in  India  attributes  to  us  '*  the 
honor  of  inventing  two  of  the  most  valuable  institutions  that 
ever  blessed  mankind,  —  the  Peace  Society,  and  the  Tem- 
perance Society;  and,  if  every  American  viewed  thein  as  I 
do,  he  would  join  them  both  immediately."  Dr.  Reed,  the 
well-known  messenger  from  the  churches  of  England,  de- 
scribes the  cause  of  peace  as  "  a  field  of  service  worthy  of 
the  church,  worthy  of  angels,"  and  calls  upon  Christians  to 
*'  glorify  their  religion  by  banding  together  as  an  army  of 
pacificators."  Ecclesiastical  bodies,  representing  nearly 
every  Christian  denomination  in  our  country,  have  borne 
their  testimony  to  this  cause,  —  Congregational ists,  both 
Unitarian  and  Orthodox,  Baptists,  Presbyterians,  Dutch 
Reformed,  Methodists,  Free-will  Baptists,  and  Christians. 
They  "  commend  this  cause  to  the  Christian  community 
as  worthy  of  a  place  among  the  benevolent  enterpri^^es  of 
tlie  age,"  and  regjird  "  the  American  Peace  Society  as 
eminently  entitled  to  the  cordial  cooperation  and  support 
of  all  the  churches  of  Christ."  They  deem  it  "  the  duty 
of  ministers  to  preach  in  favor  of  the  cause  of  peace,  as  a 
prominent  part  of  the  gospel,  and  of  Christians  to  pray  for 
the  spread  of  peace  through  the  world."  They  think, 
idso,  "  that  the  subject  of  peace,  being  in  its  strictly 
evangelical  principles  and  bearings  a  part  of  the  gospel, 
ought  to  be  discussed  in  the  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath,  just 
like  the  other  principles  of  the  Bible  ;"  and  that  **  minis- 
ters should  continue  to  preach,  Christians  to  pray,  and  all 
to  contribute  in  favor  of  universal  and  permanent  peace." 

Disciple  of  Jesus !  what  will  you  do  ?  Will  you  correct 
your  own  views  and  feelings?  Will  you  try  to  rectify 
those  of  all  the  persons  under  your  care  or  influence  1 
Will  you  pray?  Will  you  contribute?  Will  you  do  a// 
you  ran  1  ♦♦  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers ;  for  they  shall 
be  called  the  children  of  God." 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,    MASS. 


No.  n. 


SKETCH    OF    WAR: 

WHAT  IT  IS,  AND   WHAT  IT  DOES. 


Few  among  us  know  much  about  the  evils  of  war.  Have 
you  ever  visited  its  camps  and  fleets,  or  witnessed  its  sieges 
and  battles  ?  Have  you  followed  the  march  of  its  armies, 
or  looked  in  upon  the  anguish  of  its  hospitals  ?  Have  you 
seen  its  nameless  vices,  its  savage  barbarities,  its  countless 
hardships,  dangers,  and  sufferings  ?  Did  you  ever  behold  it 
firing  villages,  and  sacking  cities,  and  desolating  province 
after  province,  and  butchering  men,  women,  and  children,  by 
thousands  1  If  not,  you  know  little  of  wax  ;  and  we  wish  to 
furnish  you  with  a  brief  sketch  of  its  nature  and  effects. 

I.  Mark,  then,  the  waste  of  property  by  war.  It  not 
only  demands  for  its  support  vast  sums  of  money,  but  dries 
up  the  main  sources  of  a  nation's  wealth.  Its  victims  are 
mostly  men  in  the  vigor  of  life.  It  cripples  almost  every 
species  of  business.  It  cuts  the  sinews  of  enterprise  in 
every  department  of  gainful  industry.  Fields  lie  untilled  ; 
factories  stand  still ;  the  shop  and  the  counting-room  are 
deserted  ;  vessels  rot  at  the  wharves  ;  every  kind  of  trade  is 
interrupted  or  deranged ;  immense  masses  of  capital  are 
withdrawn  from  use ;  the  entire  energies  of  a  nation  are 
turned  into  the  channel  of  war,  and  its  resources  whelmed 
in  this  mighty  vortex  of  ruin. 

Look  at  the  loss  occasioned  in  the  single  department  of 
commerce.  This  main  source  of  wealth  war  dries  up,  and 
exposes  to  capture  an  incalculable  amount  of  property  on 
the  ocean.  Our  exports  and  imports  now  (1836)  exceed 
two  hundred  millions  of  dollars  every  year ;  and  one  half  of 
all  this,  besides  a  great  variety  of  products  interchanged 
along  our  coast,  would  be  liable  in  war  to  be  seized  by  the 
enemy.  The  imports  in  the  single  city  of  New  York 
amounted,  during  one  quarter  of  1835,  to  thirty-six  millions 
of  dollars ;  and  a  war  suddenly  occurring  would  probably 
have  found  afloat  on  the  ocean  more  than  twice  that  amount 
destined  to  the  same  port,  and  one  or  two  hundred  millions 
belonging  to  the  whole  nation.  The  commissioners  ap- 
pointed to  adjust  the  demands  of  British  merchants  for 
property  destroyed  by  Denmark  alone  during  the  late  wars 


2  A    SKETCH    OF    WAR  I 

of  Europe,  received  claims  to  tlie  amount  of  about  twenty- 
five  hundred  millions  of  dollars  !  Such  estimates  as  these 
would  prove  that  the  direct  expenses  of  war,  though  im- 
mense, are  a  mere  fraction,  rarely  more  than  a  fourth  part, 
of  the  sum  total  which  it  wastes. 

But  look  at  the  enormous  expenditures  of  war.  Those 
of  our  last  war  have  been  variously  estimated ;  but  they 
could  not  have  been  less  than  ybr^y  or  fifty  millions  of  dol- 
lars every  year.  Our  revolutionary  war  cost  England  six 
hundred  millions  of  dollars ;  and  in  the  wars  occasioned 
by  the  French  revolution,  she  spent  more  than  five 
THOUSAND  MILLIONS  !  The  public  debt  of  Great  Britain, 
incurred  solely  by  war,  is  even  now  about ybwr  thousand 
millions  of  dollars ;  and  that  of  all  Europe  amounts  to 
nearly  eight  thousand  millions  !  The  wars  of  Christendom 
during  only  twenty-two  years  cost  merely  for  their  support 
not  much  less  than  fifteen  thousand  millions  of  dol- 
lars !  Quadruple  these  sums  by  the  indirect  and  inci- 
dental losses  of  war,  and  we  shall  have  an  amount  that  would 
almost  tempt  us  to  suspect  figures  themselves  of  falsehood, 
and  facts  of  deception  —  a  sum  so  vast  that  the  bare  interest 
upon  it  would  be  more  than  enough  to  defray  the  necessary 
expenses  of  governing  every  nation  on  earth,  to  furnish 
every  family  in  the  world  with  a  Bible,  to  provide  the  means 
of  common  education  for  all  its  children,  and  to  support 
one  minister  of  the  gospel  for  every  thousand  souls. 

Seldom  do  the  people  inquire  or  imagine  how  much  our 
own  Republic  spends  for  the  war-system  even  in  a  time 
of  peace.  In  18'27,  our  expenditures  for  war  were  about 
nine  times  as  much  as  for  all  other  purposes.  In  1832,  we 
expended  for  civil  offices  $1,800,758;  for  intercourse 
with  other  nations,  $325,181 ;  for  miscellaneous  objects, 
$2,451,203;  for  the  military  establishment,  $5,446,035; 
for  the  naval  service,  $3,956,320 ;  for  revolutionary  pen- 
sions, $1,057,121 ;  for  various  other  pensions,  $127,301  ; 
for  the  Indian  department,  $1,352,420;  for  the  national 
debt,  $17,840,309;  more  than  thirty  millions  and  a  half 
in  one  form  or  another,  for  war ;  seventeen  times  as  much 
as  for  the  whole  civil  list^  and  about  ten  times  as  much  as 
for  all  the  other  purposes  of  our  government.  From  1791 
to  18:12,  the  aggregate  of  our  expenditures,  with  less  than 
three  years  of  actual  warfare,  was  $842,250,691  ;  and 
merely  37,158,047,  a  twenty-third  part  of  the  whole,  were 
for  the  civil  list,  almost  the  only  department  that  would  be 
necessary,  if  the  war-system  were  entirely  abolished 


WHAT    IT    IS,    AND    WHAT    IT    DOES.  3 

II.  But  reflect  on  the  loss  of  life  by  war.  The  bat- 
tle-field will  by  no  means  tell  us  the  whole  number  of  its 
victims.  Cruel  treatment,  bad  provisions,  unhealthy  en- 
campments, forced  marches,  frequent  exposures  to  extremes 
of  heat  and  cold  without  shelter,  and  fatal  diseases  genera- 
ted by  such  causes,  destroy  vastly  more  than  the  sword. 
Often  has  a  single  march  cut  off"  more  than  half  of  an  army. 
The  hardships  of  war  shorten  from  ten  to  twenty  years  the 
life  of  those  who  escape  the  sword,  and  thus  occasion  an 
immense  loss  that  is  never  reckoned  in  the  usual  estimates 
of  its  havoc. 

But  how  vast  the  multitude  of  its  immediate  victims !  At 
Borodino  there  perished  in  one  day  80,000 ;  and  in  the 
siege  of  Mexico  more  than  100,000  in  battle,  and  more 
than  50,000  from  the  infection  of  putrefying  carcasses. 
The  Moors  of  Spain  lost  in  one  engagement  with  Chris- 
tians 70,000,  and  in  another  180,000,  besides  50,000 
prisoners.  In  the  battle  of  Chalons  there  fell  300,000  of 
Attila's  army  alone;  in  ancient  times  it  was  no  very  un- 
common slaughter  for  one  or  two  hundred  thousand  to  be 
left  dead  on  a  single  field ;  and  the  Old  Testament  records 
an  instance  where  one  side  lost  500,000.*  We  shudder  at 
the  thought  of  Alexander's  sacrificing  three  millions  of 
lives;  but  his  successors  occasioned  the  destruction  of 
twenty  millions^  the  Saracens,  sixty  millions,  and  the  cru- 
sades alone,  forty  millions  of  nominal  Christians  ! ! 

III.  Glance,  now,  at  some  of  the  personal  sufferings 
incident  fo^war.  Think  of  the  violence  practised  in  pro- 
curing seamen  and  soldiers.  Where  the  war-spirit  is  pre- 
dominant, they  are  forced  into  the  army  and  navy  at  the 
pleasure  of  their  rulers,  and  doomed  to  all  the  hardships, 
perils,  and  sufferings  of  war,  with  little  or  no  hope  of  re- 
lease till  death.  Do  you  know  how  soldiers  are  generally 
treated?  They  are  subjected  to  the  most  iron-hearted  despo- 
tism on  earth,  to  a  bondage  far  worse  than  that  of  a  Turkish 
peasant,  or  a  domestic  slave.  They  are  at  the  mercy  of 
every  superior,  from  the  commander-in-chief  down  to  the 
pettiest  officer.  They  have  little  or  no  protection  against 
hourly  abuse,  insult,  and  violence,  nor  any  adequate  secu- 
rity for  life  itself  against  the  lawless  passions  of  officers 
seldom  called  to  account  in  war  for  the  worst  treatment  of 
soldiers.  Their  punishment  is  still  more  barbarous.  '  Sail- 
orst  are  subject,'  says  a  well-known  writer,  '  not  only  to  a 
torrent  of  imprecations  and  curses,  but  to  the  boatswain's 
*  2  Chron.  xiii.  3—17. 


4  A   SKETCH    OF   WAR: 

cat-o'-nine-tails.  The  least  complaint  brings  them  to  tlie 
gangway ;  and  sometimes  a  sailor  is  sentenced  to  receive 
five  hundred,  and  even  a  thousand  lashes,  to  be  inflicted 
day  after  day,  as  he  may  be  able  to  bear  them.  He  is  at- 
tended at  each  whipping  by  a  surgeon,  who  determines  how 
much  can  be  inflicted  at  once  without  immediate  danger  to 
life!  Often  does  the  flagellation  proceed  till  the  victim 
faints ;  and  then  he  is  respited,  to  renew  his  sufferings  an- 
other day.  I  have  often  shuddered  at  the  recital  of  whip- 
pings through  the  fleet,  the  keel-hauling,  the  spread-eagle, 
the  gagging,  the  hand-cuffing,  and  other  punishments  in- 
flicted on  sailors  who  have  been  trepanned  or  forced  into 
a  service  from  which  death  is  the  only  release.'  The  pun- 
ishment of  soldiers  is  equally  cruel  and  shocking  with  that 
of  seamen ;  but  we  will  not  describe  flogging,  the  gaunt- 
lope,  the  picket,  the  wooden-horse,  and  other  forms  of  pun- 
ishment, the  very  thought  of  which  is  enough  to  make 
one's  blood  boil  with  indignation,  or  curdle  with  horror. 
•  One  instance,  however,  we  will  select  from  our  own  land. 
In  1814,  a  soldier  was  shot  at  Greenbush,  New  York,  for 
going  thirty  or  forty  miles  from  the  camp,  without  leave,  to 
visit  his  wife  and  three  small  children.  After  the  usual  pre- 
liminaries in  such  cases,  his  coffin,  a  box  of  rough  pine 
boards,  was  borne  before  him  on  the  shoulders  of  two  men 
to  the  place  of  execution.  He  wore,  as  a  winding-sheet,  a 
white  cotton  gown,  having  over  the  place  of  his  heart  the 
black  image  of  a  heart,  as  a  mark  for  the  executioners  to 
aim  at.  His  countenance  was  as  pale  as  his  winding-sheet, 
and  his  whole  frame  trembled  with  agony.  Hi^  grave  was 
dug,  the  coffin  placed  by  its  side,  and  the  deserter,  with  a 
cap  drawn  over  his  eyes,  required  to  kneel  upon  the  lid. 
At  this  signal,  the  eight  soldiers,  drawn  by  lot  for  the 
bloody  deed,  stepped  forward  within  two  rods  of  their  victim; 
and,  at  another  signal  from  the  officer,  all  fired  at  the  same 
instant  The  miserable  man,  with  a  horrid  scream,  leaped 
from  the  earth,  and  fell  between  his  coffin  and  his  grave. 
The  sergeant,  to  insure  immediate  death,  shot  him  through 
the  head,  holding  his  musket  so  near  that  the  cap  took  fire ; 
and  there  the  body  lay,  with  the  head  sending  forth  the 
mingled  fumes  of  burning  cotton  and  hair.  The  soldiers, 
after  passing  close  by  the  corpse  in  a  line  to  let  every  one 
see  for  himself  the  fate  of  a  deserter,  marched  back  to  the 
merry  notes  of  Yankee  Doodle !  and  all  the  officers  were 
imnediately  invited  to  the  quarters  of  the  commander,  and 
tretted  with  grog ! ! 


WHAT    IT    IS,    AND    WHAT    IT    DOES.  p 

Imagine  the  sufferings  incident  to  marches.  Trace  the 
French  army  in  the  Russian  campaign.  On  halting  at 
night,  the  soldiers  threw  themselves  down  on  the  first  dirty 
straw  they  couM  find,  and  there  perished  in  large  numbers 
with  hunger  and  fatigue.  From  such  sufferings,  and  from 
the  infection  of  the  air  by  putrefied  carcasses  of  men  and 
horses  that  strewed  the  roads,  there  sprang  two  dreadful 
epidemics,  the  dysentery  and  typhus  fever.  So  fatal  were 
these  combined  causes,  that  of  22,000  Bavarians,  only 
11,000  reached  the  Duna,  though  they  had  been  in  no  ac- 
tion ;  and  the  flower  of  both  the  French  and  the  allied 
armies  perished.  A  division  of  the  Russian  army,  amount- 
ing, at  the  commencement  of  the  pursuit  of  the  French,  to 
1^,000  men,  could  not,  on  the  frontier  of  the  Duchy  of 
Warsaw,  muster  35,000 ;  and  a  re-enforcement  of  10,000, 
that  had  marched  from  Wilna,  arrived  with  only  1500,  of 
whom  one  half  were  the  next  day  in  the  hospitals.  Some 
battalions  retained  less  than  fifty  men,  and  many  companies 
were  utterly  annihilated ! 

The  march  of  the  French  both  to  and  from  Moscow, 
was  horrible  beyond  description.  *  Overwhelmed  with 
whirlwinds  of  snow,'  says  Labaume,  '  the  soldiers  could 
not  distinguish  the  road  from  the  ditches,  and  often  fell 
into  the  latter,  which  served  them  for  a  tomb.  Other;S, 
eager  to  press  forv/ard,  dragged  themselves  along.  Badly 
clothed  and  shod,  having  nothing  to  eat  or  drink,  groaning 
and  shivering  whh  the  cold,  they  gave  no  assistance,  and 
showed  no  signs  of  compassion  to  those  who,  sinking  from 
weakness,  expired  around  them.  Many  of  these  miserable 
creatures  struggled  hard  in  the  agonies  of  death.  Some, 
in  the  most  affecting  manner,  bade  adieu  to  their  brethren 
in  arms,  and  others  with  their  last  breath  pronounced  the 
name  of  their  mother  and  their  country.  Stretched  on  the 
road,  we  could  only  see  the  heaps  of  snow  that  covered 
them,  and  formed  undulations  in  our  route  like  those  in  a 
grave-yard.  Flocks  of  ravens  flew  over  our  heads  croak- 
ing ominously ;  and  troops  of  dogs,  which  had  followed  us 
all  the  way  from  Moscow,  and  lived  solely  on  our  bloody 
remains,  howled  around  us,  as  if  impatient  for  the  moment 
when  we  should  become  their  prey,  and  often  contended 
with  the  soldiers  for  the  dead  horses  which  were  left;  on 
the  road.' 

*  Every  day  furnished  scenes  too  painful  to  relate.  The 
road  was  covered  with  soldiers  who  no  longer  retained  the 
2  A* 


6  A    SKETCH    OF    WAR  : 

human  form.  Some  had  lost  their  hearing,  others  their 
speech ;  and  many,  by  excessive  cold  and  hunger,  were  re- 
duced to  such  a  state  of  stupid  frenzy,  that  they  roasted  the 
dead  bodies  for  food,  and  even  gnawed  their  own  hands 
and  arms.  Some,  too  weak  to  lift  a  piece  of  wood,  or  roll 
a  stone  towards  the  fire,  sat  down  upon  their  dead  compan- 
ions, and  gazed  with  countenances  unmoved  upon  the  burn- 
ing logs.  These  livid  spectres,  unable  to  get  up,  fell  by 
the  side  of  those  on  whom  they  had  been  seated.  Many, 
in  a  state  of  delirium,  plunged  their  bare  feet  into  the  fire 
to  warm  themselves ;  some,  with  convulsive  laughter,  threw 
themselves  into  the  flames,  and,  with  shocking  cries,  per- 
ished in  most  horrible  contortions;  others,  in  a  state  of 
equal  madness,  followed  their  example,  and  shared  the 
same  fate ;  while  many  were  so  maddened  by  the  extremes 
of  pain  and  hunger,  that  they  tore  the  dead  bodies  of  their 
comrades  into  pieces,  and  feasted  on  the  remains.' 

*  The  soldiers  often  fired  in  the  morning  the  buildings  in 
which  they  had  lodged  during  the  night ;  and  on  one  occa- 
sion there  were  three  large  barns  filled  chiefly  with  wounded 
soldiers.  From  two  of  these  they  could  not  escape  without 
passing  through  the  one  in  front,  which  was  on  fire.  The 
most  active  saved  themselves  by  leaping  out  of  the  windows  ; 
but  all  those  who  were  sick  or  crippled,  not  having  strength 
to  move,  saw  the  flames  advancing  rapidly  to  devour  them. 
Touched  by  their  shrieks,  some  of  the  least  hardened  en- 
deavored in  vain  to  save  them.  We  coiild  see  them  half- 
buried  under  the  burning  rafters.  Through  whirlwinds  of 
smoke,  they  entreated  their  comrades  to  shorten  their  suf- 
ferings by  putting  them  to  death ;  and  from  motives  of  hu- 
manity we  thought  it  our  duty  to  do  so  !  But  some  still 
survived;  and  we  heard  them  with  feeble  voices  crying, 
*'  Mre  on  us!  Jire  on  us!  at  the  head!  at  the  head!  don't 
miss  !  " 

The  sufferings  of  the  wounded  left  after  battle  on  the 
open  field,  or  crowded  into  hospitals,  are  shocking.  Fifty 
days  after  the  battle  of  Borodino,  no  less  than  20,000 
of  the  slain  were  found  lying  where  they  had  fallen ;  and 
the  whole  plain  was  strewed  with  half-buried  carcasses  of 
men  and  horses,  intermingled  with  garments  dyed  in  blood, 
and  with  bones  gnawed  by  dogs  and  vultures,  *  As  we 
were  marching  over  the  scene  of  the  battle,'  says  Labaume, 
*  we  heard  a  piteous  sound  at  a  distance ;  and,  on  reach- 
ing the  spot,  we  found  a  French  soldier  stretched  on  the 


WHAT    IT    IS,    AND    WHAT    IT    DOES.  7 

ground,  with  both  his  legs  broken.  "  I  was  wounded,"  said 
he,  "  on  the  day  of  the  great  battle  ;  and  finding  myself  in  a 
lonely  place,  where  I  could  gain  no  assistance,  1  dragged 
myself  with  my  hands  to  the  brink  of  a  rivulet,  and  have 
lived  nearly  two  months  on  grass  and  roots,  arid  a  few  pieces 
of  bread  which  I  found  among  the  dead  bodies.  At  night 
I  have  lain  in  the  carcasses  of  dead  horses ;  and  with  the 
flesh  of-these  animals  I  have  dressed  my  wounds." ' 

Even  a  hospital  is  scarcely  less  terrible.  An  eminent 
surgeon,  present  in  the  hospitals  after  the  battle  of  \V  ater- 
loo,  says,  *  The  wounded  French  continued  to  be  brought  in 
for  several  successive  days ;  and  the  British  soldiers,  who 
had  in  the  morning  been  moved  by  the  piteous  cries  of 
those  they  carried,  I  saw  in  the  evening  so  hardened  by 
the  repetition  of  the  scene,  and  by  fatigue,  as  to  become 
indifferent  to  the  sufferings  they  occasioned  ! ' 

'  It  was  now  the  thirteenth  day  after  the  battle.  It  is 
impossible  to  conceive  the  sufferings  of  men  rudely  carried 
at  such  a  period  of  their  wounds.  When  I  first  entered 
the  hospital,  these  Frenchmen  had  been  roused  and  excited 
in  an  extraordinary  degree ;  and  in  the  glance  of  their 
eyes  there  was  a  character  of  fierceness  which  I  never  ex- 
pected to  witness  in  the  human  countenance.  On  the 
second  day,  the  temporary  excitement  had  subsided ;  and 
turn  which  way  I  would,  I  encountered  every  form  of  en- 
treaty from  those  whose  condition  left  no  need  of  words  to 
stir  compassion:  Surgeon  Major  ^  oh!  how  I  suffer  !  Dress 
my  wounds  !  do  dress  my  wounds  !  —  Doctor,  I  commend 
myself  to  you.  Cut  off  my  leg!  Oh!  I  suffer  too  much! 
And  when  these  entreaties  were  unavailing,  you  might 
hear,  in  a  weak,  inward  tone  of  despair,  I  shall  die  !  I  am 
a  dead  man  !  ' 

In  the  hospitals  of  Wilna  there  were  left  more  than 
17,000  dead  and  dying,  frozen  and  freezing.  The  bodies 
of  the  former  were  taken  up  to  stop  the  cavities  in  the 
windows,  floors,  and  walls ;  and  in  one  corridor  of  the 
Great  Convent,  above  1500  were  piled  up  transversely  like 
pigs  of  lead  or  iron ! ! 

An  army  after  its  capture  is  often  doomed  to  every  variety 
of  suffering.  A  French  army  in  Spain  had  no  sooner 
grounded  their  arms,  than  multitudes  were  murdered  in 
cold  blood.  Some  were  burnt  alive,  and  all  the  survivors 
subjected  to  a  series  of  such  extreme  privations  and  suf- 
ferings as  thinned  their  ranks  with  fearful  rapidity.     *  Fa- 


8  A   SKETCfi    OF   WAR  : 

tigue  and  insufficient  provision,'  says  one  of  the  victims, 
*  rendered  many  incapable  of  rising  after  a  night's  halt, 
to  renew  their  march,  and  dawn  exhibited  to  us  the  stiffened 
limbs  of  numbers  whom  death  had  released  from  their 
troubles.  The  survivors  were  so  gaunt  and  emaciated,  that 
a  poor  fellow  would  sometimes  drop  to  the  earth  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  weariness  and  despair.  No  effort  was  made  to 
assist  these  sufferers ;  but  they  were  either  left  behind  to 
perish,  or  bayoneted  on  the  spot.  On  our  arrival  at  St. 
Lucar,  we  were  thrown,  some  of  us  into  prison-ships,  and 
others  into  stinking  casements.  Here  the  extremity  of  our 
anguish  exceeded  all  powers  of  description.  With  scarce 
strength  enough  to  crawl  to  our  detestable  dungeons,  many 
of  us  reached  them  only  to  lie  down,  and  die  broken- 
hearted ;  and  the  fare  was  so  wretched  as  to  be  refused  in 
many  cases  by  men  fainting  with  weariness,  and  famished 
with  hunger.  We  were  not  only  crowded  together  like 
cattle  amidst  vermin  and  pestilential  eflBuvia,  but  treated 
with  such  unrelenting  severity,  that  many  of  my  compan- 
ions sought  refuge  from  their  misery  by  plunging  into  the 
sea.' 

*  When  landed  on  the  desolate  island  of  Cabrera,  we  were 
exposed  to  every  species  of  privation.  Without  shelter,  or 
sufficient  clothing,  or  a  regular  supply  of  food,  we  some- 
times resorted  to  grass  and  dust  to  answer  the  wants  of  na- 
ture." A  great  many  died;  and  we  buried  them  immedi- 
ately in  the  sea  under  the  horrible  apprehension  that, 
should  their  bodies  remain  before  us,  the  savage  longings 
of  the  cannibal  would  rise  in  our  hearts.  A  cuirassier  was 
in  fact  killed  for  food  by  a  Pole,  who  was  discovered  and 
shot.  He  confessed  he  had  before  done  the  same  by  two 
other  comrades.' 

As  the  French  army  on  their  march  to  Moscow  approach- 
ed Rouza,  *  we  met,'  says  one  of  them,  '  a  great  number  of 
carts  brought  back  by  the  cavalry,  loaded  with  children,  the 
aged,  and  the  infirm.  In  our  advance  to  the  centre  of  the 
town,  we  found  soldiers  pillaging  the  houses,  regardless  of 
the  cries  of  those  to  whom  they  belonged,  or  the  tears  of 
mothers,  who,  to  soften  their  hearts,  showed  them  their 
children  on  their  knees.  Those  innocents,  with  their  hands 
clasped,  and  all  bathed  in  tears,  asked  only  that  their  lives 
might  be  spared.  In  another  instance  we  saw,  on  one  side, 
a  son  carrying  a  sick  father,  and  on  the  other,  women  pour- 
ing the  torrent  of  their  tears  upon  the  infants  whom  they 


WHAT    IT    IS,    AND    WHAT    IT    DOES.  9 

clasped  to  their  bosoms.     They  were  followed  by  most 
of  their  children,  who,  fearful  of  being  lost,  ran  crying  after 
their  mothers.     Old  men,  seldom  able  to  follow  their  fami-  , 
lies,  laid  themselves  down  to  die  near  the  houses  where  they  V 
were  born.      On  our  return  from  Moscow,  we   overtook*; 
crowds  carrying  off  their  infirm  parents.     Their  horses  hav- 
ing been  taken  from  them  by  the  troops,  men,  and  even 
women,  were  harnessed  to  the  carts  which  contained  the 
wrecks  of  their  property,  and  the  dearest  objects  of  their 
affection.     The   children  were  nearly  naked,  and  as  the 
soldiers  approached  them,  ran  crying  to  throw  themselves 
into  their  mothers'  arms.' 

Still  worse  was  the  capture  of  Magdeburg,  as  related  by  5 
Schiller  in  his  history  of  the  'thirty  years'  war.'  Exasper-  ' 
ated  by  its  long  resistance,  the  commander  of  the  besieging 
army,  on  entering  it,  abandoned  the  city  to  the  unrestrained 
rage  and  lust  of  his  soldiers ;  and  *  a  scene  of  horror  ensued 
which  history  has  no  language,  poetry  no  pencil,  to  portray. 
Neither  the  innocence  of  childhood,  nor  the  helplessness 
of  old  age,  neither  rank,  sex,  nor  beauty,  could  disarm  the 
fury  of  the  conquerors.  Wives  were  dishonored  in  the  ' 
arms  of  their  husbands,  and  daughters  at  the  feet  of  their 
parents !  Nothing  could  afford  any  protection.  Fifly-three 
women  were  found  beheaded  in  a  single  church  !  Some  of 
the  soldiers  amused  themselves  with  throwing  children  into 
the  flames,  and  others  with  stabbing  infants  at  their  moth- 
ers' breasts ! !  Heaps  of  dead  bodies  strewed  the  ground ; 
streams  of  blood  ran  along  the  streets  ;  and  the  city  being 
fired  at  once  in  several  places,  the  atmosphere  soon  glowed 
with  such  intolerable  heat  as  compelled  even  the  soldiers 
themselves  to  seek  refuge  in  their  camps.  More  than  Jive 
thousand  bodies  were  thrown  into  the  river  to  dear  the 
streets;  there  perished  in  all  not  less  than  thirty  thousand; 
Magdeburg,  one  of  the  finest  cities  in  Germany,  was  a  heap 
of  ashes ;  and  the  next  day  some  of  the  few  survivors  were 
seen  crawling  out  from  under  the  dead,  children  wandering 
about  with  heart-rending  cries  in  search  of  their  parents, 
and  infants  still  sucking  the  dead  bodies  of  their  mothers ! ' 
In  gratitude  to  the  God  of  Peace  !  for  success  in  this 
work  of  blood  and  desolation,  *  a  solemn  mass  was  per- 
formed the  next  day,  and  Te  Deum  sung  amidst  the  dis- 
charge of  artillery  ! ! ' 

Do  facts  like  these  give  an  exaggerated  view  of  war  ? 
No  ;  they  will  hardly  enable  us  adequately  to  conceive  even 
2* 


10  A    SKETCH    OF    WAR: 

its  ordinary  atrocities  and  horrors.  Such  evils  are  not 
merely  incidental  to  war ;  they  are  inseparable  from  any 
of  its  forms,  and  constitute  its  grand,  essential  elements. 
They  are  a  part  of  the  system.  Misery  is  its  object,  or  its 
means ;  and  war,  without  a  fearful  waste  of  property,  life, 
and  happiness,  is  an  utter  impossibility.  Its  whole  business 
is  to  plunder,  and  burn,  and  butcher  by  wholesale  ;  and  to 
talk  of  a  war  that  did  not  perpetrate  such  atrocities,and  inflict 
such  miseries,  would  be  as  direct  a  contradiction  in  terms  as 
to  speak  of  vision  without  light,  or  of  fire  without  heat. 

Can  you  estimate  the  guilt,  the  folly,  the  madness  of  em- 
ploying such  an  arbiter  of  international  disputes  as  war? 
Burn  villages,  demolish  cities,  lay  waste  empires,  send 
hundreds  of  thousands  into  an  untimely  grave,  into  a  ru- 
ined eternity,  all  for  the  settlement  of  difficulties  which  can 
be  adjusted  only  by  an  appeal  to  reason !  What  should  we 
think  of  two  neighbors  who  should  propose  to  settle  a 
point  in  dispute,  not  by  reasoning  the  case  between  them- 
selves, nor  by  referring  it  to  an  impartial  jury,  or  to  um- 
pires mutually  chosen,  but  by  shooting  at  each  other,  and 
butchering  each  others'  wives  and  children  1  Yet  such  is  the 
war-system  still  supported  by  all  Christendom ;  and,  if  the 
stealer  of  a  horse  or  a  coat  deserves  a  prison,  and  the  pirate 
who  destroys  but  one  vessel,  or  the  assassin  who  murders  a 
single  victim,  is  deemed  worthy  of  the  gallows,  what  must 
be  the  criminality  of  nations  in  continuing  a  custom  which 
multiplies  such  crimes  and  woes  by  thousands  and  by 
million"*! 

On  whom  do  the  evils  of  war  fall  ?  Are  its  guilty  abettors 
the  men  that  pay  its  expenses,  bear  its  hardships,  and  suffer 
its  countless  woes?  No;  these  come  upon  the  people.  It 
is  their  earnings  that  are  wasted,  their  blood  that  is  poured 
out  like  water,  their  dwellings  that  are  burnt  to  ashes,  their 
fathers  and  brothers,  husbands  and  sons,  that  are  driven 
away  like  cattle  to  be  butchered  by  thousands ;  while  the 
authors  of  all  these  evils,  sitting  aloof  from  the  storm 
upon  their  sofas  of  ease  and  luxury,  read  without  a  sigh 
of  the  miseries  they  have  themselves  occasioned.  How 
lonjr  will  the  prnplr,  bear  such  cold-blooded  oppression  ? 

Tell  us  not  th;it  war  is  a  necessary  evil.  Necessary  for 
whom  ?  For  civilized,  Christian  men  like  ourselves?  Are 
wc  unwilling  to  regulate  our  intercourse,  or  settle  our  dis- 
putes, without  bloodshed  ?  Why  is  war  necessary  ?  Merely 
because  nations  choose  it ;  just  as  intemperance  is  neces- 
sary to  the  drunkard,  piracy  to  the  pirate,  and  duelling  to 


WHAT   IT    IS,    AND    WHAT    IT    DOES.  11 

the  duellist.  There  is  no  other  kind  of  necessity  for  war ; 
and  it  must  cease  of  course  whenever  men  shall  resolve  to 
have  it  cease.  There  is  no  more  need  of  war  in  Christen- 
dom than  there  is  of  duels  in  New  England;  it  would 
be  just  as  easy  for  nations,  if  they  chose,  to  settle  all  their 
disputes  without  the  sword  and  the  cannon,  as  it  is  for  us 
to  adjust  ours  without  pistols  and  daggers. 

But  do  you  deem  it  impossible  thus  to  change  the  war- 
choice  even  of  Christendom  1  Human  nature  is  as  corri- 
gible on  this  subject  as  upon  any  other ;  there  is  nothing 
to  render  the  extinction  of  this  custom  impossible  by  the 
right  use  of  the  requisite  means ;  and  the  promises  of  God 
make  its  ultimate  abolition  perfectly  certain.  *  It  shall  come 
to  pass  in  the  last  days,  that  the  mountain  of  the  Lord's 
house  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and 
all  nations  shall  flow  unto  it ;  and  then  shall  they  beat 
their  swords  into  plough-shares,  and  their  spears  into  prun- 
ing-hooks ;  nations  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation, 
neither  shall  they  learn  war  any  more.'  Isa.  2 : 2-4, 
9:4-9.  Mic.  4:1-4. 

But  how  is  this  promise  to  be  fulfilled  ?  By  miracle  ? 
We  can  expect  no  more  miracles.  By  some  unparalleled 
interposition  of  Providence  ?  God  has  promised  no  such 
interposition.  Without  the  use  of  appropriate  means? 
Such  means  are  just  as  indispensable  for  the  prevalence  of 
peace  as  for  the  spread  of  the  gospel.  % 

But  what  are  these  means  ?  Such  an  application  of  the 
gospel  to  the  subject  as  shall  revolutionize  the  war-senti- 
ments of  Christendom,  fill  every  Christian  community  with 
deep  abhorrence  of  this  custom,  and  lead  rulers  to  employ 
only  pacific  expedients  in  settling  international  disputes. 
And  who  shall  use  the^e  means  ?  We  cannot  rely  on  men 
of  the  ^cvoridj-except  as  occasional  coadjutors ;  it  is  the  ap- 
propriate work  of  Christians ;  and  they  must  do  it,  or  it 
never  will  be  done.  But  how  shall  they  do  it?  Is  it 
enough  for  them  merely  to  support  and  to  prop^ate  the 
present  form  of  their  religion  ?  It  has  for  ages  tolerated 
the  war-system,  and  suffered  Christendom  to  remain  a 
vast  hot-bed  of  war.  Will  such  a  religion,  if  spread  through 
the  world,  put  an  end  to  war  ?  No  sooner  than  a  rum- 
drinking  and  a  slave-holding  Christianity  would  put  an 
end  to  intemperance  and  slavery.  The  gospel  will  abolish 
nothing  which  it  sanctions  and  supports ;  and,  if  men  are 
not  converted  to  peace,  as  fast  as  they  are  to  God,  such  a 
conversion  of  the  whole  world  could  not  insure  the  univer- 


13  A    SKETCH    OF    WAR. 

sal  and  permanent  reign  of  peace.  We  must  restore  the 
pacific  principles  of  the  gospel,  and  incorporate  them  once 
more,  where  Christ  and  his  apostles  left  them,  in  the  faith 
and  character  of  his  disciples  as  a  body,  before  the  spread 
of  Christianity  will  insure  the  abolition  of  war.  The  gospel 
is  a  sovereign  remedy  for  all  the  moral  maladies  of  our 
world ;  but  it  must  be  applied  to  war,  before  it  can  cure 
this  deep  and  deadly  gangrene  of  our  race.  It  has  not 
been  applied  for  fifteen  centuries;  and  so  long  as  Chris- 
tians persist  in  this  neglect,  we  cannot  expect  to  see  peace 
coextensive  with  Christianity. 

But  do  you  ask  what  specific  things  must  be  done? 
Let  every  man  cease  from  lending  his  countenance  to  the 
war-system  in  any  way  or  degree,  and  every  possible  means 
be  used  to  render  it  deeply  and  universally  odious.  Let 
every  Christian  examine  the  subject  till  his  own  views, 
feelings,  and  habits,  are  cast  in  the  pacific  mould  of  the 
gospel.  Let  the  pulpit  and  the  press  proclaim,  with 
trumpet-tongue,  the  folly,  guilt,  and  horrors  of  war  before 
every  Christian  community  on  earth.  Let  instructors  in 
all  Christian  seminaries  of  learning,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest,  infuse  the  pacific  principles  of  the  gospel  into 
the  forming  minds  under  their  care.  Let  teachers  in  every 
Sabbath-school  through  the  world  do  the  same  to  their 
pupils.  Let  every  parent  train  his  children  to  a  love  of 
peape,  and  a  deep,  unmingled  abhorrence  of  war.  Let  all 
classes,  high  and  low,  old  and  young,  male  and  female, 
unite  to  bring  this  custom  into  general  contempt  and  exe- 
cration, as  a  mass  of  folly,  sin,  and  misery.  Such  a  process 
would  soon  bring  war  in  Christendom  to  a  perpetuaJ  end. 

How*  much  longer,  then,  will  the  friends  of  God  and 
man  slumber  over  this  subject?  Will  they  never 
open  their  eyes  to  the  abominations  and  miseries  of 
war,  and  combine  their  efforts  to  sweep  it  from  every 
land  blest  with  the  light  of  revelation  ?  Can  they  still  lend 
their  countenance  to  such  a  wholesale  destroyer  of  prop- 
erty, and  fife,  and  virtue,  and  religion,  and  unmortal  souls? 
Disciples  of  Jesus,  we  leave  these  questions  on  your  con- 
science before  the  God  of  peace.  Have  you  done  what 
you  could  ?  Are  you  now  doing  all  that  you  can  ?  If  not, 
will  you  keep  hold  of  the  subject  till  you  learn  and  do 
your  whole  duty  as  a  follower  of  the  Prince  of  peace  ? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,    MASS. 


No.  III. 


TESTIMONIES  AGAINST  WAR 


Wars  come  solely  because  men  choose  to  have  them ; 
and,  could  we  change  the  choice  of  the  world  on  this 
subject,  the  custom  would  soon  die  of  itself.  Men  can 
put  an  end  to  it  whenever  they  please ;  and  we  wish  so  far 
to  revolutionize  the  war-sentiments  of  mankind  that  they 
will  no  longer  tolerate  this  terrible  scourge.  It  has  always 
resulted  from  a  public  opinion  grossly  perverted ;  this 
opinion  in  favor  of  war  must  be  radically  changed,  before 
peace  can  become  permanent  or  general ;  and,  among 
other  means  adapted  to  produce  such  a  change,  we  wish, 
as  the  friends  of  temperance  have  done  in  their  cause,  to 
show  you  how  men  the  most  distinguished  in  all  ages  for 
their  learning,  wisdom,  and  virtues,  have  regarded  the 
custom  of  war. 

EMINENT   PAGANS. 

We  could  not  expect  the  heathen  to  denounce  a  custom 
so  emphatically  their  own ;  yet  we  find  the  wisest  and  best 
of  them  reprobating  it  in  the  strongest  terms.  Minutius 
calls  it  "  the  part  of  a  wild  beast,  not  of  man,  to  inquire 
how  bite  may  be  returned  for  bite,  and  evil  for  evil." 
Cicero  speaks  of  war,  "  contention  by  violence,  as  belong- 
ing to  the  brutes,'^  and  complains  bitterly  of  its  effects  on 
liberal  arts,  and  peaceful  pursuits.  "  All  our  noble  studies, 
all  our  reputation  at  the  bar,  all  our  professional  assiduities, 
are  stricken  from  ou*r  hands  as  soon  as  the  alarm  of  war  is 
sound*;d.  Wisdom  itself,  the  mistress  of  affairs,  is  driven 
from  the  field.  Force  bears  sway.  The  statesman  is 
despised ;  the  grim  soldier  alone  is  caressed.  Legal  pro- 
ceedinr^s  cease.  Claims  are  asserted  and  prosecuted,  not 
according  to  law,  but  by  force  of  arms." 

Skneca,  the  great  moralist  of  antiquity,  is  still  more 
strong  in  his  condemnation  of  war.  ''  How  are  we  to  treat 
our  fellow-creatures?  Shall  we  not  spare  the  effusion  of 
blood  ]     How  small  a  matter  not  to  hurt  him  whom  we  are 

A 


2  TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR. 

bound  by  every  obligation  to  do  all  tlie  good  in  our  power! 
—  Some  deeds,  which  are  considered  as  villanous  while 
capable  of  being  prevented,  become  honorable  and  glorious 
when  they  rise  above  the  control  of  law.  The  very  things 
which,  if  men  had  done  them  in  tlieir  private  capacity, 
they  would  expiate  with  their  lives,  we  extol  when  perpe- 
trated in  regimentals  at  the  bidding  of  a  general.  We 
punish  murders  and  massacres  committed  among  private 
persons;  but  what  do  we  with  wars,  the  glorious  crime 
of  murdering  whole  nations?  Here  avarice  and  cruelty 
know  no  bounds ;  enormities  forbidden  in  private  persons, 
are  actually  enjoined  by  legislatures,  and  every  species  of 
barbarity  authorized  by  decrees  of  the  senate,  and  votes 
of  the  people." 

WARRIORS. 

The  testimony  of  a  warrior  against  his  own  profession 
is  like  the  concessions  of  an  enemy,  or  the  confession  of  a 
criminal ;  but  still  we  have  heard  a  general  of  our  own 
calling  **  a  battle  a  hell,"  and  Napoleon  himself,  in  mo- 
ments of  chagrin  and  serious  reflection,  denouncing  war 
as  "  the  business  of  barbarians." 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  a  scholar,  a  statesman,  and  a 
soldier,  declares  "  there  is  no  profession  more  unpropitious 
than  that  of  warriors.  Besides  the  envy  and  jealousy  of 
men,  the  spoils,  rapes,  famine,  slaughter  of  the  innocent, 
devastations  and  burnings,  with  a  world  of  miseries  laid 
on  the  laboring  man,  they  are  so  hateful  to  God,  as  with 
good  reason  did  Monluc,  the  Marshal  of  France,  confess, 
*  that,  were  not  the  mercies  of  God  infinite,  it  were  in  vain 
for  those  of  his  profession  to  hope  for  any  portion  of  them, 
seeing  the  cruelties  by  them  permitted  and  perpetrated  are 
also  infinite.'  " 

The  Buonaparte  family  was  a  nursery  of  warriors ;  yet 
from  Louis  Buonaparte  we  have,  after  years  of  experience 
and  reflection,  this  indignant  testimony  against  war :  "  I 
have  been  as  enthusiastic  and  joyful  as  any  one  else  after 
victory ;  still  I  confess  that  even  then  the  sight  of  a  field 
of  battle  not  only  struck  me  with  horror,  but  even  turned 
me  sick.  And  now  that  I  am  advanced  in  life,  I  cannot 
understand,  any  more  than  I  could  at  fifteen  years  of  age, 
how  beings  who  call  themselves  reasonable,  and  who  have 
so  much  foresight,  can  employ  this  short  existence,  not  in 
loving  and  aiding  each  other,  and  passing  through  it  as 


TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR.  3 

gently  as  possible,  but  in  striving,  on  the  contrary,  to 
destroy  each  other,  as  though  time  did  not  do  tjiis  with 
sufficient  rapidity.  What  I  thought  at  fifteen  years  of  age, 
I  still  think,  that  war,  and  the  pain  of  death  which  society 
draws  upon  itself,  are  but  organized  barbarisms,  an  inherit- 
ance of  the  savage  state,  disguised  or  ornamented  by 
ingenious  institutions,  and  false  eloquence." 

We  might  quote  Wellington  himself,  the  conqueror  of 
Napoleon,  deploring  the  evils  of  this  custom,  and  express- 
ing his  willingness,  "even  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  life,  to 
prevent  one  month  of  war  in  a  country  to  which  he  was 
attached ; "  but  it  is  more  refreshing  to  hear  such  a  patriot- 
warrior  as  our  own  Washington  "  reflecting  how  much 
more  delightful  to  an  undebauched  mind  is  the  task  of 
making  improvements  on  the  earth,  than  all  the  vain-glory 
which  can  be  acquired  from  ravaging  it  by  the  most  unin- 
terrupted career  of  conquests.  How  pitiful,  in  the  eye  of 
reason  and  religion,  is  that  false  ambition  which  desolates 
the  world  with  fire  and  sword,  compared  to  the  milder  vir- 
tues of  making  our  fellow-men  as  happy  as  their  frail  condi- 
tions and  perishable  natures  will  permit  them  to  be !  It  is 
time  for  knight-errantry  and  m^d  heroism  to  be  at  an  end." 

Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Germantown,  Warner 
Mifflin,  in  behalf  of  the  duakers,  carried  to  the  opposing 
generals,  Washington  and  Howe,  the  testimony  of  his 
brethren  against  war  ;  and  when  Mifflin,  after  Washington 
was  raised  to  the  presidency  of  the  United  Ststes,  visited 
him  in  New  York,  the  President,  having  received  him  with 
much  respect,  said,  **  Will  you  please,  Mr.  Mifflin,  to 
inform  me  on  what  principles  you  were  opposed  to  the 
Revolution  ? "  "  Yes,  Friend  Washington  ;  on  the  same 
principle  that  I  should  now  be  opposed  to  any  change  in 
this  government.  All  that  rvcr  was  gained  hy  revolutions, 
is  not  an  adequate  compensation  to  the  poor  mangled  soldier 
for  the  loss  of  life  or  liuih"  —  how  much  more  truly  he 
might  have  added,  "  for  the  loss  of  his  soul,  a  gem  of  more 
value  than  all  the  kingdoms  of  this  world."  Washington, 
after  some  pause  and  reflection,  replied,  "  Mr.  Mifflin,  I 
honor  your  sentiments ;  there  is  more  in  them  than  man- 
kind have  orenerallv  considered." 


STATESMEN. 

Macchiavel  himself  denounces   war   as  "  a  profession 
by  which  men  cannot  'live  honorably ;  an  employment  by 


4  TESTIMONIES   AGAINST    WAR. 

which  the  soldier,  if  he  would  reap  any  profit,  is  ohllffed  to 
be  false,  and  rapacious,  and  cruel.  Nor  can  any  man,  who 
makes  war  his  profession,  be  otherwise  than  vicious.  Have 
you  not  a  proverb,  that  war  makes  villainSy  and  peace  brings 
them  to  the  gallows  ?  " 

Lord  Clarendon,  illustrious  in  the  annals  of  England, 
is  very  explicit  in  his  denunciations  of  this  custom.  "  Of 
all  the  punishments  and  judgments  which  the  provoked 
anger  of  the  divine  providence  can  pour  out  upon  a  nation 
full  of  transgressions,  there  is  none  so  terrible  and  destroy- 
ing as  war.  A  whole  city  on  fire  is  a  spectacle  replete  with 
horror ;  but  a  whole  kingdom  on  fire  must  be  a  prospect 
much  more  terrible.  And  such  is  every  kingdom  in  war, 
where  nothing  flourishes  but  rapine,  blood  and  murder. 
We  cannot  make  a  more  lively  representation  and  emblem  to 
ourselves  of  hell,  than  by  the  view  of  a  kingdom  in  war." 

"  They  who  allow  no  war  to  be  lawful,  have  consulted 
both  nature  and  religion  much  better  than  they  who  think 
it  may  be  entered  into  to  comply  with  the  ambition,  covet- 
ousness,  or  revenge  of  the  greatest  princes  and  monarchs 
upon  earth ;  as  if  God  had  inhibited  only  single  murders, 
and  left  mankind  to  be  massacred  according  to  the  humor 
and  appetite  of  unjust  and  unreasonable  men.  It  is  no 
answer  to  say,  that  this  universal  suffering  is  the  inevitable 
consequence  of  war,  however  warrantably  soever  entered 
into,  but  rather  an  argument  that  no  war  can  warrantably 
be  entered  into.  It  may  be,  upon  a  strict  survey  and 
inquisition  into  the  elements  and  injunctions  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  that  no  war  will  be  found  justifiable ;  and,  at 
all  events,  what  can  we  think  of  most  of  those  wars  which 
for  some  hundreds  of  years  have  infested  the  world  so 
much  to  the  dishonor  of  Christianity,  and  in  which  the 
lives  of  more  men  have  been  lost  than  might  have  served 
to  people  all  those  parts  of  the  earth  which  yet  remain 
without  inhabitants?" 

Necker,  the  great  French  financier,  exclaims,  *'  With 
what  impatience  have  I  wished  to  discuss  this  subject,  and 
to  expatiate  on  the  evils  which  always  attend  this  terrible 
calamity  !  War,  alas!  impedes  the  course  of  every  useful 
plan,  exhausts  the  sources  of  prosperity,  and  diverts  the 
attention  of  governors  from  the  happiness  of  nations.  It 
even  suspends,  sometimes,  every  idea  of  justice  and  hu- 
manity ;  and,  instead  of  gentle  and  benevolent  feelings,  it 
substitutes  hostility  and  hatred,  the  necessity  of  oppression, 
and  the  rage  of  desolation." 


TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR.  6 

*'  In  every  situation  where  men  are  impelled  by  circum- 
stances, neither  their  first  choice,  nor  their  first  impulse,  is 
to  be  considered  in  this  argument.  We  must  study  their 
sentiments  in  those  moments  when,  distracted  by  a  thou- 
sand excruciating  pains,  yet  still  lingering  in  existence, 
they  are  carried  off  in  heaps  from  the  fatal  field  where 
they  have  been  mowed  down  by  the  enemy.  We  must 
study  their  sentiments  in  those  noisome  hospitals  where 
they  are  crowded  together,  and  where  the  sufferings  they 
endure  to  preserve  a  languishing  existence,  too  forcibly 
prove  the  value  they  set  upon  their  lives,  and  the  greatness 
of  the  sacrifice  to  which  they  had  been  exposed.  We 
ought  more  especially  to  study  their  sentiments  on  board 
those  ships  on  fire,  in  which  there  is  but  a  moment  between 
them  and  the  most  cruel  death ;  and  on  those  ramparts 
where  subterraneous  explosion  announces,  that  they  are  in 
an  instant  to  be  buried  under  a  tremendous  heap  of  stones 
and  rubbish.  But  the  earth  has  covered  them,  the  sea  has 
swallowed  them  up,  and  we  think  of  them  no  more. 
What  unfeeling  survivors  we  are!  While  we  walk  over 
mutilated  bodies,  and  shattered  bones,  we  exult  in  the 
glory  and  honor  of  which  we  alone  are  the  heirs." 

"  This  subject  is  immensely  important  to  every  nation. 
War  multiplies  the  calamities  of  mankind.  Several  states 
are  already  converted,  as  it  were,  into  a  vast  body  of 
barracks ;  and  the  successive  augmentation  of  disciplined 
armies  will  be  sure  to  increase  taxes,  fear  and  slavery  in 
the  same  proportion." 

Thomas  Jefferson  both  wrote  and  acted  with  great 
decision  in  favor  of  peace.  '*  I  stand  in  awe,"  he  says  in 
1798,  "  at  the  mighty  conflict  to  which  two  great  nations," 
(France  and  England,)  "  are  advancing,  and  recoil  with 
horror  at  the  ferociousness  of  man.  Will  nations  never 
devise  a  more  rational  umpire  of  differences  than  force  ? 
Are  there  no  means  of  coercing  injustice  more  gratifying 
to  our  nature  than  a  waste  of  the  blood  of  thousands,  and 
of  the  labor  of  millions  of  our  fellow-creatures  ?  —  Won- 
derful has  been  the  progress  of  human  improvement  in 
other  respects.  Let  us  then  hope,  that  the  law  of  nature 
will  in  time  influence  the  proceedings  of  nations  as  well  as 
of  individuals,  and  that  we  shall  at  length  be  sensible,  that 
war  is  an  instrument  entirely  inefficient  towards  redressing 
wrongs  and  multiplies  instead  of  indemnifying  losses.  Had 
the  money  which  has  been  spent  in  the  present  war,  been 
3  A* 


6  TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR. 

eniployed  in  making  roads,  and  constructing  canals  of  nav- 
igation and  irrigation  through  the  country,  not  a  hovel  in 
the  Jlighlands  of  Scotland,  or  the  mountains  of  Auvergue, 
would  have  been  without  a  boat  at  its  door,  a  rill  of  water 
in  every  field,  and  a  road  to  its  market-town.  Were  we  to 
go  to  war  for  redress  of  the  wrongs  we  have  suffered,  we 
should  only  plunge  deeper  into  loss,  and  disqualify  our- 
selves for  half  a  century  more  for  attaining  the  same  end. 
These  truths  are  palpable,  and  must  in  the  progress  of 
time  have  their  influence  on  the  minds  and  conduct  of 
nations." 

We  might  quote  from  a  long  list  of  English  statesmen  — 
Burke,  Fox,  Canning,  McTntosh,  and  others ;  but  a  single 
paragraph  from  a  speech  of  Lord  Brougham  is  all  we  have 
room  to  give.  "  My  principles  —  I  know  not  whether  they 
agree  with  yours ;  they  may  be  derided,  they  may  be  un- 
fashionable ;  but  I  hope  they  are  spreading  far  and  wide  — 
my  principles  are  contained  in  the  words  which  that  great 
man.  Lord  Faulkland,  used  to  express  in  secret,  and  which 
I  now  express  in  public  —  Peace,  Peace,  PEACE.  / 
abominate  war  as  unchristian.  I  hold  it  to  be  the  greatest 
of  human  crimes.  I  deem  it  to  include  all  others  —  violence, 
blood,  rapine,  fraud,  every  thing  which  can  deform  the 
character,  alter  the  nature,  and  debase  the  name  of  man.'' 

PHILOSOPHERS. 

We  need  not  quote  largely  from  philosophers ;  but  in 
the  van  of  them  all  we  will  place  the  great  philosopher  of 
common  sense,  our  own  Franklin,  a  stanch  opposer  of  the 
war-system.  "  If  statesmen,"  says  he,  '*  were  more  accus- 
tomed to  calculation,  wars  would  be  much  less  frequent. 
Canada  might  have  been  purchased  from  France  for  a  tenth 
part  of  the  money  England  spent  in  the  conquest  of  it ; 
and  if,  instead  of  fighting  us  for  the  power  to  tax  us,  she 
Iiad  kept  us  in  good  humor  by  allowing  us  to  dispose  of 
our  own  money,  and  giving  us  now  and  then  a  little  of  her 
own  by  way  of  donation  to  colleges  or  hospitals,  for  cut- 
ting canals,  or  fortifying  ports,  she  might  easily  have 
drawn  from  us  much  more  by  occasional  voluntary  grants 
and  contributions,  than  ever  she  could  by  taxes.  Sensible 
people  will  give  a  bucket  or  two  of  wiiter  to  a  dry  pump, 
in  order  to  get  from  it  afterwards  all  they  want." 

*'  After  nmch   occasion  to  consider  the  folly  and  mis- 


TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR.  ♦ 

chiefs  of  a  state  of  warfare,  and  the  little  or  no  advantage 
obtained  even  by  those  nations  which  have  conducted  it 
with  the  most  success,  I  have  been  apt  to  think  there  never 
has  been,  nor  ever  will  be,  any  such  thing  as  a  good  war, 
or  a  bad  peace.  —  All  wars  are  follies,  very  expensive  and 
very  mischievous  ones.  When  will  mankind  be  convinced 
of  this,  and  agree  to  settle  their  difficulties  by  arbitration  1 
Were  they  to  do  it  even  by  the  cast  of  a  die,  it  would  be 
better  than  by  fighting  and  destroying  each  other.  —  We 
daily  make  great  improvements  in  natural  philosophy; 
there  is  one  I  wish  to  see  in  moral  —  the  discovery  of  a 
plan  that  would  induce  and  oblige  nations  to  settle  their 
disputes  without  first  cutting  one  another's  throats," 

Benjamin  Rush,  a  name  dear  to  science  and  patriotism, 
philanthropy  and  religion,  wrote  with  great  force  against 
war,  and  was  the  first  to  suggest  the  idea  of  associated 
efforts  for  its  abolition.  In  a  very  ingenious  essay,  he 
proposed  *'  an  office  for  promoting  and  preserving  per- 
petual peace  in  our  country,"  and  recommended,  among 
many  other  '  appropriate  and  horrific  emblems  of  the  war- 
office,  that  "  there  be  in  the  lobby  painted  representations 
of  all  the  common  military  instruments  of  death ;  and  also 
human  skulls  —  broken  bones  —  unburied  and  putrefying 
dead  bodies  —  hospitals  crowded  with  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers  —  villages  on  fire  —  mothers  in  besieged  towns 
eating  the  flesh  of  their  children  —  ships  sinking  in  the 
ocean  —  rivers  dyed  with  blood  —  and  extensive  plains 
without  a  tree,  or  fence,  or  any  object  but  the  ruins  of 
deserted  farm-houses.  Above  all  this  group  of  woful 
figures,  let  the  following  words  be  inserted  in  red  charac- 
ters, to  represent  human  blood  —  national  glory  ! !  " 

Jeremy  Bentham,  a  peculiar  but  powerful  mind,  says, 
that  "  nothing  can  be  worse  than  the  general  feeling  on 
the  subject  of  war.  The  church,  the  state,  the  ruling  few, 
the  subject  many,  all  seem  in  this  case  to  have  combined 
to  patronize  vice  and  crime  in  their  widest  sphere  of  evil. 
Dress  a  man  in  particular  garments,  call  him  by  a  particu- 
lar name ;  and  he  shall  have  authority,  on  divers  occasions, 
to  commit  every  species  of  offence  —  to  pillage,  to  murder, 
to  destroy  human  felicity ;  and,  for  so  doing,  he  shall  be 
rewarded.  The  period  will  assuredly  arrive,  when  better 
instructed  generations  will  require  all  the  evidence  of 
history  to  credit,  that  in  times  deeming  themselves  en- 
lightened, human  beings  should  have  been  honored  with 
public  approval  in  the  very  proportion  of  the  misery  thev 


8  TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR. 

caused,  and  the  mischiefs  they  perpetrnted  ;  that  men  there 
were,  men  deemed  worthy  of  popular  recompense,  who 
for  some  small  pecuniary  retribution,  hired  themselves  out 
to  do  any  deeds  of  pillage,  devastation  and  murder,  which 
might  be  demanded  of  them  ;  and  that  such  men-destroyers 
were  marked  out  as  the  eminent  and  illustrious,  as  the 
worthy  of  laurels  and  monuments,  of  eloquence  and 
poetry." 

MEN  OF  LETTERS. 

Erasmus,  the  glory  of  his  age,  wrote  against  war  with 
unrivalled  beauty  and  force.  "  What  infernal  being,  all- 
powerful  in  mischief,  fills  the  bosom  of  man  with  such 
insatiable  rage  for  war  !  If  familiarity  with  the  sight  had 
not  destroyed  all  surprise  at  it,  and  custom  blunted  the 
sense  of  its  evils,  who  could  believe  that  those  wretched 
beings  are  possessed  of  rational  souls,  who  contend  with 
all  the  rage  of  furies?  Robbery,  blood,  butchery,  desola- 
tion, confound  without  distinction  every  thing  sacred  and 
profane." 

"  Behold  with  the  mind's  eye  savage  troops  of  men 
horrible  in  their  very  visage  and  voice ;  men  clad  in  steel, 
drawn  upon  every  side  in  battle-array,  and  armed  with 
weapons  that  are  frightful  in  their  clash  and  their  very 
glitter.  Mark  the  horrid  murmur  of  the  confused  multi- 
tude, their  threatening  eyeballs,  the  harsh,  jarring  din  of 
drums  and  clarions,  the  terrific  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the 
thunder  of  cannon,  a  mad  shout  like  the  shrieks  of  bed- 
lamites, a  furious  onset,  a  cruel  butchering  of  each  other  ! 
See  the  slaughtered  and  the  slaughtering,  heaps  of  dead 
bodies,  fields  flowing  with  blood,  rivers  reddened  with 
human  gore !" 

"  I  pass  over,  as  comparatively  trifling,  the  fields  of 
grain  trodden  down ;  peaceful  cottages  and  rural  mansions 
burnt  to  the  ground ;  villages  and  towns  reduced  to  ashes ; 
innocent  women  violated ;  old  men  dragged  into  captivity  ; 
churches  defaced  and  demolished  ;  every  thing  laid  waste, 
a  prey  to  robbery,  plunder  and  violence.  Nor  will  I 
mention  the  consequences  of  the  justest  and  most  fortunate 
war  —  the  unoffending  common  people  robbed  of  their 
little,  hard-earned  property  ;  the  great  laden  with  taxes  ; 
old  people  bereaved  of  their  children,  more  cruelly  killed 
by  the  murder  of  their  offsjiring  than  by  the  sword  ;  women 
far  advanced  in  ajje,  left  destitute,  and  put  to  death  in  a 
worse  form  than  if  they  had  died  at  once  bv  the   point 


TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR. 


9 


of  the  bayonet;  widowed  mothers,  orphan  children,  liouses 
of  mourning,  and  once  affluent  families  reduced  to  extreme 
penury." 

**  Do  you  detest  robbery  and  pillage?  These  are  among 
the  duties  of  war.  Do  you  shudder  at  the  idea  of  murder  ? 
To  commit  it  with  despatch,  and  by  wholesale,  constitutes 
the  celebrated  art  of  war.  Do  you  regard  debauchery, 
rapes,  incest,  and  crimes  of  a  dye  still  deeper  tiian  these, 
as  foul  disgraces  to  human  nature  1  Depend  upon  it,  vv;ir 
leads  to  all  of  them  in  their  most  aggravated  atrocity.  Is  im- 
piety, or  a  total  neglect  of  religion,  the  source  of  all  villany  ? 
Religion  is  always  overwhelmed  in  the  storms  of  war." 

"The  absurdest  circumstance  of  all  is,  that  you  see  in 
wars  amons:  Christian  nations  the  cross  irlitterin^  and 
waving  on  high  in  both  the  contending  armies  at  once. 
What  a  shocking  sight !  Crosses  dashing  against  crosses, 
and  Christ  on  this  side  firing  bullets  at  Christ  on  the  other ! 
Cross  against  cross,  and  Christ  against  Christ,  and  prayers 
at  the  same  time  from  both  armies  to  the  sime  God  of 
Peace ! ! " 

Well  does  Burton,  Johnson's  favorite  author,  ask,  *'  Is 
not  this  a  mad  world  ?  Are  not  these  madmen  who  leave 
such  fearful  battles  as  memorials  of  their  madness  to  all 
succeeding  generations  ?  What  fury  put  so  brutish  a 
thing  as  war  first  into  the  minds  of  men?  Why  should 
creatures,  borii  to  exercise  mercy  and  meekness,  so  rave 
and  rage  like  beasts  rushing  on  to  their  own  destruction  ? 
So  abominable  a  thing  is  war !  And  yet  warriors  are  the 
brave  spirits,  the  gallant  ones  of  this  world,  the  alone 
admired,  the  alone  triumphant !  These  have  statues,  and 
crowns,  and  pyramids,  and  obelisks  to  their  eternal 
fame ! ! " 

JTHEOLOGIANS. 

The  early  fathers  of  the  church  were  unanimous  in  de- 
nouncing war  as  inconsistent  with  a  profession  of  faith  in 
Christ.  "  Custom,"  says  Tertullian,  "  can  never  sanc- 
tion an  unlawful  act.  And  can  a  soldier's  life  be  lawful, 
when  Christ  has  pronounced  that  he  who  lives  by  the  sword, 
shall  perish  by  the  sword?  Can  any  one  who  professes  the 
peaceable  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  be  a  soldier?"  Such 
views  prevailed  among  all  the  ministers  and  churches  of 
Christ  during  the  purest  era  of  our  religion,  and  ceased 
not  to  regulate  their  conduct  till  near  the  fatal  union  of 
3* 


10  TB8TIMONIE»  AGAINST    WAR. 

Church  and  State,  under  Constantine,  early  in  the  fourth 
century. 

Jeremy  Taylor  holds  war  to  be  incompatible  with  tlie 
gospel.  "  The  Christian  religion  hath  made  no  particular 
provision  for  the  conduct  of  war,  under  a  proper  title;  and, 
if  men  be  subjects  of  Christ's  law,  they  can  never  go  to 
war  with  each  other.  As  contrary  as  cruelty  is  to  mercy, 
tyranny  to  charity,  so  is  war  and  bloodshed  to  the  meekness 
and  gentleness  of  the  Christian  religion  ;  and  such  is  the 
excellency  of  Christ's  doctrine,  that,  if  men  would  obey  it, 
Christians  would  never  war  one  against  another." 

Bishop  Watson  exclaims,  •*  Would  to  God  that  the  spirit 
of  the  Christian  religion  would  exert  its  influence  over  the 
hearts  of  individuals  in  their  public  capacity,  as  much  as, 
we  trust,  it  does  over  their  conduct  in  private  life !  Then 
there  would  be  no  war.  When  the  spirit  of  Christianity 
shall  exert  its  proper  influence  over  the  minds  of  individuals, 
and  especially  over  the  minds  of  public  men  in  their  public 
capacities,  war  will  cease  throughout  the  Christian  world." 

Cecil  assures  us  "  there  is  something  worse  than  the 
plunder  of  the  ruffi'm,  than  the  outrage  of  the  ravisher, 
than  the  stab  of  the  murderer.  These  are  comparatively 
but  the  momentary  evils  of  war.  There  is  also  a  shocking 
moral  append  aire  which  naturally  grows  out  of  national 
conflicts.  Instead  of  listening  to  the  counsels  of  divine 
mercy,  and  concurring  in  the  design  of  a  kingdom  of 
heaven  set  up  on  earth  in  *  righteousness,  and  peace,  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,'  the  spirit  of  warlike  discord  tends 
to  entomb  ever-y  such  idea.  It  tends  rather  to  set  up  some- 
thing like  a  kingdom  of  hell,  7l  reign  of  violence  where 
destruction  is  the  grand  enterprise  ;  where  the  means  of 
death  and  desolation  are  cultivated  as  a  science;  where  in- 
vention is  racked  to  produce  ruin,  and  the  performance  of 
it  is  ennobled  by  public  applause.  Moloch  seems  once 
more  enthroned  ;  while  ambition,  revenge  and  oppression 
erect  their  banners  amidst  groans  and  tears,  amidst  cities 
desolated,  or  smoking  in  their  ashes." 

RoBF.RT  Hall,  the  first  preacher,  if  not  the  first  mind  of 
his  ajre,  has  filled  many  a  page  with  strains  of  eloquent 
denunciations  against  war.  **  But  how  is  it  possible  to  give 
you  an  idea  of  its  horrors  ?  Here  you  behold  rich  harvests, 
tlie  bounty  of  heaven,  and  the  reward  of  industry,  con- 
sumed in  a  moment,  or  trampled  under  foot,  while  famine 
and  pestilence  follow  in  the  steps  of  deso  ation.     There  the 


TESTIMONIES    AGAINST    WAR.  11 

cottages  of  peasants  given  up  to  the  flames  ;  mothers  expir- 
ing through  fear  not  for  themselves,  but  their  infants ;  the 
inhabitants  flying  with  their  helpless  babes  in  all  directions, 
miserable  fugitives  on  their  native  soil  !  In  another  part 
you  witness  opulent  cities  taken  by  storm ;  the  streets, 
where  no  sounds  were  heard  but  those  of  peaceful  industry, 
filled  on  a  sudden  with  slaughter  and  blood,  resounding  with 
the  cries  of  the  pursuing  and  the  pursued  ;  the  palaces  of 
nobles  demolished,  the  houses  of  the  rich  pillaged,  the  chas- 
tity of  virgins  and  of  matrons  violated,  and  every  age,  sex 
and  rank  mingled  in  promiscuous  massacre  and  ruin." 

**  War  is  also  the  fruitful  parent  of  crimes.  It  reverses, 
with  respect  to  its  objects,  all  the  rules  of  morality  It  is 
nothing  less  than  a  temporary  repeal  of  the  principles 
OF  virtue.  It  is  a  system  out  of  which  almost  all  the  vir- 
tues arc  excluded,  and  in  which  nearly  all  the  vices  are  in- 
eluded.  Whatever  renders  human  nature  amiable  or  re- 
spectable, whatever  engages  love  or  confidence,  is  sacrificed 
at  its  shrine." 

"  While  the  philanthropist  is  devising  means  to  mitigate 
the  evils,  and  augment  the  happiness  of  the  world,  the  war- 
rior is  revolving  in  the  gloomy  recesses  of  his  capacious 
mind,  plans  of  future  devastation  and  ruin.  Prisons  crowded 
with  captives,  cities  emptied  of  their  inhabitants,  fields  des- 
olate and  waste,  are  among  his  proudest  trophies.  The 
fabric  of  his  fame  is  cemented  with  tears  and  blood ;  and, 
if  his  name  is  wafted  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  it  is  in  the 
shrill  cry  of  suffering  humanity,  in  the  curses  and  impre- 
cations of  those  whom  his  sword  has  reduceci-to  despair." 

Chalmers,  one  of  the  first  minds  that  Scotland  ever 
produced,  is  very  full  on  this  subject,  and  truly  says,  that 
"  the  prophecy  of  universal  peace  will  meet  its  accomplish- 
ment only  by  the  activity  of  men,  by  the  philanthropy  of 
thinking  and  intelligent  Christians.  It  is  public  opinion 
which  in  the  long  run  governs  the  world  ;  and,  while  I  look 
with  confidence  to  a  gradual  revolution  in  the  state  of  pub- 
lic opinion  from  the  omnipotence  of  gospel  truth  working 
its  silent  but  effectual  way  through  the  families  of  mankind, 
yet  much  may  be  done  to  accelerate  the  advent  of  perpetual 
and  universal  peace  by  a  distinct  body  of  men  embarking 
their  every  talent  and  acquirement  in  the  prosecution  of 
this  as  a  distinct  object.  This  was  the  way  in  which,  a 
few  years  ago,  the  British  public  were  gained  over  to  the 
cause  of  Africa ;   and  it  is  in  this  way,  I  apprehend,  that 


12  TESTIMONIES    Ai.AINST    WAR. 

the  propliecy  of  universal  peace  will  receive  a  speedier  ful- 
filmeut." 

Well  does  James,  one  of  the  most  popular  religious  wri- 
ters in  England,  deem  "  it  high  time  for  the  followers  of 
the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  to  study  the  genius  of  their  re- 
ligion. A  hatred  of  war  is  an  essential  feature  of  prar- 
tical  Christianity ;  and  it  is  a  shame  upon  what  is  called  the 
Christian  world,  that  it  has  not  long  since  borne  universal 
and  indignant  testimony  against  that  enormous  evil  which 
still  rages  not  merely  among  savages,  but  among  scholars, 
philosophers,  Christians  and  divines.  Real  Christians 
should  come  out  from  the  world  on  this  subject,  and  touch 
not  the  unclean  thing.  Let  them  act  upon  their  own  prin- 
ciples, and  become  not  only  the  friends  but  the  advocates  of 
Peace.  Let  ministers  from  the  pulpit^  writers  from  the 
presSy  and  private  Christians  in  their  intercourse  with  each 
other  and  the  worlds  inculcate  a  fixed  and  irreconcilablt  ab- 
horrence of  war.  Let  the  Church  of  God  be  a  soci- 
ety FOR  THE  DIFFUSION  OF  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  UNIVER- 
SAL Peace." 

In  view  of  such  testimonies,  we  cannot  regard  the  cause 
of  Peace  as  a  trivial  or  a  friendless  enterprise.  The  great- 
est and  the  best  men  of  every  age  have  given  it  their  full  sanc- 
tion, their  warmest  wishes ;  all  the  glorified  spirits  above 
are  its  deeply  interested  patrons  ;  God  himself  has  taken 
it  under  his  special  care,  and  promised  it  eventual  triumph 
through  the  world.  It  is  the  noblest  enterprise  that  ever 
tasked  the  powers  of  man  ;  and  loudly  does  it  call  upon 
every  friend  qf  God  and  a  bleeding  race  to-  come  to  its 
support. 

Mark  how  far  the  extracts  above  go  against  war.  They 
do  not  directly  touch  the  vexed  question  concerning  wars 
purely  defensive ;  but  they  are  strong  against  the  whole  war- 
system,  and  would,  if  carried  into  practice,  entirely  demcj- 
ish  this  enormous  engine  of  guilt,  bloodshed  and  misery. 
Breathe  the  spirit  and  sentiments  of  these  extracts  into  the 
people  of  Christendom ;  and  you  work  such  a  change  in 
public  opinion  as  would  ere-long  banish  this  custom  from 
every  land  blest  with  the  light  of  the  gospel.  Such  is  the 
change  which  the  friends  of  peace  are  laboring  to  produce ; 
and  fain  would  we  entreat  every  lover  of  his  country,  his 
species,  or  his  God,  to  lend  this  cause  his  utmost  aid. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,    MASS. 


No.  IV. 

WAR   AND    THE   BIBLE. 


The  Bible  is  our  only  infallible  guide ;  and  by  it  every 
custom  must  eventually  be  tried.  Many  have  already  been 
brought  to  this  test ;  and  it  is  high  time  for  Christians  to 
look  at  war  in  the  light  of  revelation. 

Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me.  War  contra- 
venes all  such  precepts.  It  sprang  from  paganism ;  its 
spirit  is  essentially  pagan  still ;  and  its  laws  every  where  re- 
quire soldiers  to  obey  their  officers  rather  than  God  him- 
self. Does  it  not  thus  dethrone  Jehovah  from  the  hearts 
of  an  army  ?  Are  not  soldiers  notorious  for  their  neglect 
of  God  ?  Can  war  be  any  thing  else  than  a  vast  nursery 
of  irreligion  ?  Every  man,  whether  a  private,  an  officer,  or 
even  a  chaplain,  is  bound  by  his  oath  to  yield  implicit  obe- 
dience to  his  superiors.  He  is  not  permitted  to  follow  his 
conscience.  A  British  officer  was  once  cashiered  by  Prot- 
estants for  refusing  to  join  in  what  he  deemed  the  idolatries 
of  Popery  ;  nor  must  soldiers  scruple,  at  the  bidding  of  a 
superior,  to  commit  the  grossest  outrages  ever  recorded  in 
the  annals  of  crime. 

Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain. 
War  is  a  school  of  impiety  and  profaneness ;  blasphemy  is 
the  well-known  dialect  of  the  army  and  navy ;  you  can 
hardly  enter  a  camp  or  a  war-ship  without  meeting  a  volley 
of  oaths,  or  find  a  warrior  on  land  or  sea  who  does  not  ha- 
bitually blaspheme  the  name  of  God.  An  eye-witness,  speak- 
ing of  one  of  our  own  armies,  says  we  should  not  wonder 
at  their  frequent  defeats,  "  if  we  could  witness  the  drunken- 
ness and  debauchery  from  the  general  to  the  private,  and 
hear  them  strive  to  outvie  each  other  in  uttering  the  most 
horrid  imprecations  and  blasphemy,  and  ridiculing  every 
thing  like  religion." 

Remember  the  Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy.  War  scorns 
to  acknowledge  any  Sabbath.  Its  battles  are  fought,  its 
marches  continued,  its  fortifications  constructed,  all  its  la- 
bors exacted,  all  its  recreations  indulged,  quite  as  much  on 
this  as  any  other  day  of  the  week.  It  is  the  chosen  time 
for  special  and  splendid  reviews ;  all  the  millions  of  sol- 
diers in  Christendom  are  compelled  to  violate  the  Sabbath  ; 
and,  where  the  war-spirit  ^s  rife,  it  will  be  found  well  nigh 
impossible  to  preserve,  in  any  degree  of  vigor,  this  main- 
spring of  God's  moral  government  over  our  world. 


2  WAR    AND    THE    BIBLE. 

Thou  shall  not  commit  adultery.  War  is  a  hotbed  of  the 
foulest  licentiousness.  It  is  deemed  the  soldier's  privilege  ; 
and,  wherever  an  army  is  encamped,  a  war-ship  moored,  or 
1  city  taken,  he  is  permitted  to  indulge  his  lusts  at  will. 
In  1380,  some  English  troops,  while  wind-bound  near 
Portsmouth,  and  waiting  for  provisions,  forcibly  carried  off 
men's  wives  and  daughters ;  and,  among  other  outrages, 
their  commander  went  to  a  nunnery,  and  demanded  admit- 
tance for  his  soldiers  ;  and,  being  refused,  they  entered  by 
violence,  compelled  the  nuns  to  go  with  them,  and  afterwards 
threw  them  into  the  sea !  When  an  English  man-of-war 
was  accidentally  sunk  near  Spithead,  she  carried  down  with 
her  no  less  than  six  hundred  lewd  women ;  and  amidst  the 
fires  of  captured  Magdeburg  and  Moscow  were  heard 
continually  the  wild,  despairing  shrieks  of  ravished  mothers 
and  daughters.  War  is  a  Sodom ;  and,  could  all  its  impu- 
rities be  collected  in  one  place,  we  might  well  expect 
another  storm  of  fire  and  brimstone. 

Thou  shall  not  steal.  War  is  a  system  of  legalized  na- 
tional robbery ;  the  very  same  thing,  only  on  a  larger  scale, 
and  under  the  sanction  of  government,  for  which  individuals 
are  sent  to  the  prison  or  the  gallows.  To  plunder,  burn,  and 
destroy,  is  the  soldier's  professed  business !  At  Hamburg, 
40,000  persons  were  driven  from  their  homes  without 
clothes,  money,  or  provisions,  of  which  their  enemies  had 
despoiled  them.  **  Out  of  a  plentiful  harvest,"  says  a  Saxon 
nobleman,  **  not  a  grain  is  left.  The  little  that  remained, 
was  consumed  in  the  night  fires,  or  was  next  morning,  in 
spite  of  tears  and  prayers,  wantonly  burned  by  the  laughing 
fiends.  Not  a  horse,  not  a  cow,  not  a  sheep  is  now  to  be 
seen."  The  French  troops,  on  their  return  from  Moscow, 
often  destroyed  every  building  for  leagues  together  ;  and 
around  Leipsic  nothing  was  spared,  neither  the  ox,  nor  the 
calf  two  days  old,  neither  the  ewe,  nor  the  lamb  scarcely 
able  to  walk,  neither  the  brood-hen,  nor  the  tender  chicken. 
Whatever  had  life,  was  slaughtered ;  and  even  the  meanest 
bedstead  of  the  meanest  beggar  was  carried  off.  All  this 
accords  with  the  laws  of  war  ;  and  every  government,  in  its 
letters  of  marque  and  reprisal,  licenses  men  to  commit  pi- 
racy at  pleasure ! 

Thou  shah  not  kill.  It  is  the  very  object,  the  main  busi- 
ness of  war  to  kill  men.  It  is  the  most  terrible  engine 
ever  contrived  for  the  wholesale  ^destruction  of  mankfnd ; 
incomparably  more  destructive  to  life  than  the  inquisrtion 
or  the  slave-trade,  than  famine,  or  pestilence,  or  any  form 


WAR    AND    THE    UIULE.  3 

of  disease  that  ever  swept  over  the  earth.  Survey  the 
butcheries  of  the  baiJe-field  —  50,000  at  Eylau;  80,000  at 
Borodino  ;  300,00'i)  at  Arbela  ;  400,000  of  the  enemy  alone 
by  Julius  Caesar  in  a  single  engagement  ;  more  than 
5,000,000  in  the  invasion  of  Greece  by  Xerxes ;  1,600,000 
by  Jenghiz-khan  in  the  district  of  Herat,  1,760,000  in  two 
other  cities  with  their  dependencies,  and,  during  the  last 
twenty-seven  years  of  his  reign,  an  average  of  more  than 
500,000  every  year  !  Look  at  the  French  butcheries  in 
Spain  or  Portugal  under  Napoleon.  Peaceful  inhabitants 
massacred  without  distinction  or  mercy !  "  Often  were  the 
ditches  along  the  line  of  their  march,"  says  an  eye-witness, 
"  literally  filled  with  clotted,  coagulated  blood  as  with  mire; 
the  dead  bodies  of  peasants,  put  to  death  like  dogs,  were 
lying  there  horribly  mangled  ;  little  naked  infants  of  a  year 
old  or  less,  were  found  besmeared  in  the  mud  of  the  road, 
transfixed  with  bayonet-wounds ;  matrons  and  young  women 
dead  with  cruel,  shameful  wounds  ;  and  priests  hanged  on 
the  trees  by  the  way-side  like  felons  !  ! " 

Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  But  can  the 
boldier  do  this,  and  still  continue  his  trade  of  human  butch- 
ery 1  Love  is  said  to  be  the  fulfilling  of  the  law  because  it 
woi^keth  no  ill  to  his  neighbor ;  but  the  soldier  is  required,  as 
a  matter  of  alleged  duty,  to  do  his  neighbor  all  the  ill  he  can  ! 
He  is  hired  for  this  sole  purpose ;  and  he  must  do  it,  or  die 
himself  for  neglect  of  duty  !  !  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you^  do  ye  even  so  to  them.  But  would  you 
like  to  have  a  gang  of  men  burn  your  dwelling  over  your 
head,  butcher  your  whole  family,  and  then  send  a  bullet 
or  a  bayonet  through  your  own  heart  ?  This  is  the  whole 
business  of  war  ;  its  grand  maxim  is  to  do  unto  others  just 
what  we  would  not  have  done  to  ourselves.  Aveng^ 
not  yourselves.  Is  not  war  a  vast  engine  of  vengeance '' 
t  proceeds  in  all  cases  on  the  principle  of  injuring  others, 
either  because  they  have  injured  us,  or  because  we  fear  they 
will^  unless  we  prevent  it  by  injuring  them  in  advance 
Love  your  enemies.  War  requires  and  almost  compels  us  to 
hate  them.  Do  good  unto  all  men.  War  does  them  evil^  only 
evil.  Lay  aside  all  malice.  War  cherishes  malice.  Overcome 
evil  loith  good.  War  overcomes  evil  only  with  evil.  Whoso 
smiteth  thee  on  one  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also.  War 
bids  us  kill  the  man  that  smites  us,  or  attempts  to  smite  us. 
Imagine  a  soldier  repeating  the  Lord's  prayer.  Our 
Father  in  heaven  !  And  does  the  soldier,  while  butchering 
men,  women  and  children,  think  to  resemble  Him  who  send- 


4  WAR   AND    TUK    BIBLE.  , 

eth  rain  upon  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good,  and  causcth  his  sun 
to  rise  alike  on  the  just  and  the  unjust  ?  Halloioed  be  Ihy  name. 
Hallow  God's  name  by  plunder  and  bloods'ied  !  Thy  kinfrdom 
come.  That  kingdom  which  consisteth  in  i  ijrhteonsness,  peace 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  come  by  th^lt  and  violence,  by  the 
bloody  strife  and  countless  miseries  of  war  I  Thy  ivUl  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  By  hating,  robbing,  and  killing  his 
brethren !  Forgive  tw  our  trespasses^  as  we  fors^ve  t/wse  who 
trespass  against  us.  Forgive  by  doing  them  allUie  injury  in  our 
power!  \Vould  soldiers  like  to  be  forgiven  in  this  way  —  by 
God's  making  them  as  miserable  as  he  can  ?  Thus  the  soldier, 
if  he  i>rays  consistently,  must  ask  God  to  help  him  plunder, 
and  bum,  and  ravage,  and  kill,  and  commit  almost  every  species 
of  wickedness !  Should  the  pirate  pray  for  success,  would  he 
not  ask  for  the  very  same  things? 

Let  us  learn  the  soldier's  duties  (!)  from  Suwarrow^s  Cate- 
chism, a  series  of  directions  by  that  great  general  to  his  soldiers. 
"  Push  hard  with  the  bayonet.  The  ball  will  lose  its  way  ;  the 
bayonet  never.  The  ball  is  a  fool ;  the  bayonet  a  hero.  Stab 
once ;  and  off  with  the  Turk  from  the  bayonet !  Stab  the 
second!  Stab  the  third !  A  hero  will  stab  half  a  dozen !  If 
three  attack  you,  stab  the  first,  fire  on  the  second,  and  bayonet 
the  third ! " 

Are  such  things  only  perversions  of  war?  No;  they  are 
inseparable  from  any  of  its  forms ;  and  as  well  might  you  talk 
of  fire  without  heat,  as  of  a  war  without  fraud,  and  robbery, 
and  murder,  and  misery  by  wholesale.  Do  you  deem  it  possible 
for  the  deeds  of  war  to  be  done  from  good  motives,  in  a  Chris- 
tian spirit  ?  What !  biixn  villages,  plunder  cities,  butcher  men, 
women  and  children,  send  thousamls  at  once  into  eternity  in 
unforgiven  guilt,  all  fi-om  motives  acceptable  to  a  God  of  peace 
and  love!  A  Christian  way  to  do  such  things!  A  way  in 
which  Paul  or  Christ  would  have  done  them ! ! 

Now,  tell  us  the  difference  between  what  are  called  offensive 
and  defensive  wars.  Do  they  not  both  cherish  the  same  spirit, 
employ  the  same  means,  perjietrate  the  same  atrocities,  and 
inflict  the  same  miseries?  Wherein  do  they  differ?  If  gov- 
ernment cannot  license  us  to  blaspheme  God,  and  worship  idols, 
can  it  authorize  us  to  break  those  precepts  of  the  Bible  which 
every  species  of  war  must  trample  in  the  dust  ? 

Reader,  are  you  a  disciple  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  ?  How  then 
can  you  have  any  thing  to  do  with  such  a  system  of  wholesale 
robbery  and  murder?  Are  you  a  parent?  Can  you  train  your 
children  to  the  love  and  practice  of  war  ?  Are  you  a  teacher  ? 
Can  you  instruct  your  pupils  in  the  science  of  human  butchery, 
or  fill  them  with  a  thirst  for  the  glory  of  plunder  and  blood- 
shed ?  Are  you  an  ambassador  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  ?  Is  it 
consistent  for  you  to  act  as  a  military  chaplain  ?  Would  you 
be  chaplain  to  a  horde  of  robbers,  or  a  gang  of  pirates? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,    MASS. 


No.  V. 


WAR    CURABLE, 


OR  "* 

THE    POSSIBILITY    OF    ABOLISHING    THIS    CU«TOM. 


The  evils  of  war  none  will  deny  ;  but  not  a  few  seem  to 
doubt  the  possibility  of  abolishing  a  custom  so  long-con- 
tinued, so  deeply  rooted  in  the  worst  passions  of  mankind, 
and  so  universally  wrought  into  the  very  texture  of  society 
and  government.  Our  object  is  so  good,  they  will  not  oppose 
us ;  but  they  have  so  little  faith  in  its  practicability  as  to 
withhold  their  active  co-operation,  and  even  tell  us,  we 
might  as  well  think  to  chain  up  the  lightning,  or  hold  down 
the  earthquake,  as  dream  of  banishing  war  from  such  a 
world  as  ours. 

This  skepticism  is  not  peculiar  to  the  cause  of  peace. 
We  can  hardly  name  an  enterprise  of  benevolence  or  reform, 
that  was  not  obliged  at  its  outset  to  encounter  the  same  ob- 
stacle from  multitudes  even  of  good  men.  "  How  apt," 
says  Dr.  Rush,  "  are  mankind  to  brand  as  visionary  every 
proposition  for  innovation.  There  never  was  an  improve- 
ment in  any  art  or  science,  nor  a  proposal  for  meliorating 
the  condition  of  man  in  any  age  or  country,  that  has  not 
been  considered  as  an  Utopian  scheme."  The  present  meth- 
ods of  treating  the  small-pox,  fevers,  and  other  diseases, 
were  at  first  viewed,  not  only  with  distrust,  but  absolute  hor- 
ror ;  and  every  one  knows,  that  efforts  in  the  cause  of  tem- 
perance, and  for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade,  were  for  a 
time  regarded  as  utterly  visionary  and  hopeless.  The  use 
of  the  magnet  in  navigation,  the  application  of  steam  to 
mechanical  purposes,  a  multitude  of  inventions  and  improve- 
ments, now  familiar  as  household  words,  were  at  first  treated 
with  utter  incredulity  and  contempt.  Our  own  Congress 
refused  Fulton  the  use  of 'the  Representatives'  Hall,  to 
explain  his  scheme  of  applying  steam  to  navigation.  '  What,' 
said  members  of  the  French  cabinet  to  Fulton,  when  so- 
liciting their  patronage,  '  do  you  presume  to  think  you  can 
ever  propel  a  boat  by  steam,  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an 
hour  ? '  *  Yes,  indeed,'  replied  the  enthusiast ;  '  and  if  you'll 
furnish  me  the  means,  I  will  eventually  reach  even  six  miles 
p.  T.      NO.  v. 


WAR    CURABLE. 


88 


an  hour.'  The  wise  men  of  France  turned  their  backs  on 
the  poor  inventor  ,  and,  in  less  than  twenty  vears,  thousands 
of  steam-vessels,  moving  at  the  rate  not  of  Mc,  but  fifteen  or 
twenty  miles  an  hour,  were  every  where  proclaiming  the 
enthusiast  to  have  been  far  wiser  than  the  skeptic,  and  in- 
finitely more  useful  to  mankind. 

But  what  do  the  friends  of  peace  seek  to  accomplish? 
Only  the  abolition  of  war  among- nations  professedly  Chris- 
tian. Here  is  our  whole  object.  We  dream  not  of  ex- 
tending our  efforts  beyond  the  limits  of  Christendom ;  we 
rely  for  success  entirely  on  the  gospel  as  God's  sovereign 
remedy  for  all  the  moral  maladies  of  mankind ;  and  our 
highest  hopes  will  be  realized  when  war  shall  be  banished 
from  every  Christian  land,  and  peace  be  made,  as  a  part  of 
our  religion,  to  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  gospel  over  the 
whole  earth,  and  the  world  thus  be, — what  it  never  yet  has 
been  in  a  single  case,  though  it  ought  to  have  been  in  every 
case, — converted  to  peace  as  fiist  as  it  shall  be  to  God. 

Now,  is  such  an  object  unattainable?  Do  you  really 
think  it  impossible  for  peace  to  prevail  wherever  the  gospel 
itself  does?  If  so,  where  lies  the  impossibility  2  In  the 
nature  of  man  ?  Then  show  us  in  what  part  of  his  nature. 
In  his  intellect,  his  conscience,  his  heart?  Has  he  any 
principle,  any  passion,  any  habit,  that  defies  the  utmost 
power  of  God's  truth  and  spirit?  No;  none  of  his  faults 
are  absolutely  incorrigible  ;  and,  if  war  be  the  work  of  men, 
it  surely  can  be  done  away  by  a  right  use  of  the  requisite 
means.  To  suppose  the  contrary  would  be  a  gross  libel  on 
human  nature,  and  an  impious  limitation  of  His  power  who 
hath  the  hearts  of  all  entirely  in  his  hands,  and  doeth  his 
pleasure  alike  in  the  armies  of  heaven,  and  among  the  in- 
habitants of  the  earth. 

Let  us  look  next  at  the  nature  of  war  itself,  and  see  if  we 
can  find  there  any  thing  to  forbid  the  possibility  of  its  abo- 
lition. It  is  a  custom ;  and  all  customs  are  from  their  very 
nature  siibject  to  the  will  of  men,  liable  to  change,  and  ca*-- 
pable  of  being  entirely  reformed.  These  properties  are 
essential  to  any  custom,  and  include  of  course  the  possibility 
of  its  abolition. 

I  know  very  well  how  common  it  has  been,  if  it  is  not 
5till,  to  represent  war,  unlike  any  other  custom,  as  a  nat- 
ural, necessary  evil  that  can  be  resisted  no  better  than  a 
pestilence,  a  tempest,  or  an  earthquake.  Strange  miscon- 
ception !     Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  war,  without  any  human 


89  WAR    CURABLE.  S 

agency,  bursting  upon  mankind  like  lightning  from  the 
cloud,  or  like  the  eruptions  of  a  volcano  ?  Does  it,  like  a 
tornado  or  the  cholera,  spring  from  causes  beyond  our  con- 
trol ?  A  war  without  human  hearts  to  will  it,  or  human 
hands  to  carry  it  on !  Is  it  not  so  entirely  dependent  on 
the  will  of  men  as  to  come  and  go  just  at  their  bidding  ?  Is 
there  any  physical  necessity  which  compels  them,  whether 
they  will  or  not,  to  butcher  one  another  ?  Such  questions 
answer  themiselves,  and  prove  that  war  comes  solely  from  the 
wrong  choice  of  men,  and  must  of  necessity  cease  whenever 
they  shall  choose  to  discard  it.  Can  civilized.  Christian 
nations  never  be  persuaded  to  abstain  from  the  wholesale 
butchery  of  one  another  as  a  means  of  settling  their  dis- 
putes? The  advocates  of  war  tell  us  they  never  can  be; 
but  we,  relying  on  the  corrigibility  of  hu^an  nature,  fully 
believe  they  can  be  thus  persuaded,  and  will  be,  under  the 
influences  of  the  gospel  rightly  applied. 

But  do  you  still  plead  for  the  necessity  of  war  ?  Neces- 
sary for  what  ?  For  the  gratification  of  bad  passions  1  But 
these  passions  may  be  restrained,  or  taught  to  gratify  them- 
selves in  other  ways  than  the  wholesale  butcheries  of  war. 
Necessary  for  the  vindication  of  our  rights,  for  the  redress 
of  our  wrongs,  for  the  protection  of  our  interests  ?  Better 
means  than  the  sword  for  all  these  purposes  are  clearly 
possible,  and  fast  coming  to  be  adopted.  Necessary  for  a 
nation's  honor?  The  plea  of  the  duellest ;  and,  when 
public  sentiment  shall  be  thoroughly  Christianized,  it  will 
be  as  disgraceful  for  a  nation  to  wage  war,  as  it  is  now  in 
New  England  to  fight  a  duel.  Necessary  for  the  safety  of 
nations?  All  their  danger  arises  from  the  war-system 
itself;  and,  were  that  system  universally  relinquished,  there- 
would  be  no  aggression  to  resist.  War  necessary  because 
nations  have  been  so  long  accustomed  to  it  ?  This  argu- 
ment would  prove  the  impossibility  of  any  reform,  improve- 
ment or  change.  If  war  cannot  be  abolished  because  it  has 
continued  so  long,  then  every  form  of  idolatry,  all  the  bar- 
barous customs  of  our  own  ancestors,  all  the  errors  and  sins 
of  past  ages,  must  have  remained  to  this  hour.  War  neces- 
sary because  nations  recognize  no  other  arbiter  of  their 
disputes  ?  The  assertion  is  not  strictly  true  at  the  present 
day,  since  they  are  at  length  beginning  to  employ  other  um- 
pires ;  but,  if  it  were  true,  it  would  not  disprove  the  possibility 
of  superseding  this  custom.  Once  individuals  had  no  other 
means  than  brute  violence  for  the  redress  of  their  wrongs, 


WAR    CURABLE. 


40 


or  the  adjustment  of  their  difficulties;  but,  if  that  old  prac- 
tice of  private  wars  gave  place,  ages  ago^  to  codes  and 
courts  of  law  between  individuals,  it  is  equally  possible  for 
nations,  if  they  choose,  to  provide  similar  methods  for  the 
settlement  of  their  disputes  without  the  effusion  of  blood. 

Nor  does  society  or  government  oppose  any  insuperable 
obstacles  to  the  prevalence  of  peace.  What  if  the  spirit 
and  principles  of  war  are  through  the  world  wrought  into 
the  very  texture  of  them  both  ?  So  were  a  multitude  of 
other  customs  that  have  already  been  banished  from  Chris- 
tian and  even  from  pagan  lands.  Society  and  government, 
each  the  work  of  men,  are  necessarily  moulded  to  their 
will,  and  not  only  may,  but  absolutely  must  receive  just 
such  modifications  as  they  shall  choose.  Only  let  them 
universally  demand  the  change  requisite  for  the  permanent 
peace  of  the  world';  and  such  a  change  would  soon  pervade, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  every  society  and  government  on  earth. 

Need  we,  then,  despair  in  view  of  the  influences  which 
have  for  so  many  ages  been  leagued  all  over  the  globe  in 
support  of  the  war-system  ?  True,  these  influences  are 
exceedingly  powerful ;  but  they  are  all  dependent  entirely 
on  the  will  of  men ;  and  such  a  change  in  their  views  and 
feelings  as  we  seek  to  produce,  would  enlist  every  one  ot 
them  on  the  side  of  peace.  Only  turn  the  popular  current : 
and  on  its  bosom  war  would  ere-long  float  spontaneously 
from  Christendom  forever,  just  as  the  tide  of  a  regenerated 
public  sentiment  h;is  drifted  away  a  variety  of  kindred 
practices. 

But  do  you  deem  it  impossible  thus  to  revolutionize  the 
war-sentiments  even  of  Christendom  ?  The  history  of  man, 
the.  promises  of  God,  and  the  acknowledged  power  of  his 
gospel,  all  forbid  such  a  supposition.  True,  the  means 
requisite  for  this  purpose,  are  not  now  in  use  to  any  great 
extent ;  but  the  Bible  prescribes  and  provides  such  means  ; 
and,  if  the  friends  of  God  and  man  would  only  use  them 
aright,  we  might  confidently  expect  ultimate,  if  not  speedy 
success. 

Glance  at  the  history,  of  kindred  reforms.  Long  was 
knight-errantry  the  admiration  of  all  Christendom  ;  but 
where  is  it  now  ?  Vanished  from  the  earth  ;  its  very  name 
a  term  of  reproach  ;  its  memory  living  mainly  in  those 
works  of  genius  which  ridiculed  its  follies  from  the  world. 
Nearly  the  same  might  be  said  of  the  crusades,  and  all 
wars  of  religion,  the  prosecution  of  which  was  once  re- 


Sll 


WAR    CURABLE. 


garded  as  the  highest  service  a  Christian  could  render  to 
the  God  of  peace  ! 

For  ages  did  the  trial  by  ordeal  and  judicial  combat 
prevail.  The  accused  was  required  to  fight  his  accuser  in 
single  combat,  or  plunge  his  arm  into  boiling  water,  or  lift 
a  red-hot  iron  with  his  naked  hand,  or  walk  bare-footed 
over  burning  plough-shares,  or  pass  through  other  trials 
equally  severe  and  perilous.  Such  trials  were  conducted 
with  ceremonies  the  most  solemn  ;  the  ministers  of  religion 
were  wont  to  be  present ;  the  Almighty  was  invoked  to 
interpose  in  behalf  of  the  innocent ;  and  whoever  escaped 
the  ordeal  unhurt,  or  came  from  the  combat  victorious,  was 
said  to  be  acquitted  by  "  the  judgment  of  God."  This 
custom,  sanctioned  by  every  class  in  society,  by  the  wisest 
monarchs,  and  the  highest  dignitaries  in  the  church,  pre- 
vailed for  centuries  all  over  Europe ;  nor  is  it  more  than  two 
hundred  years  since  it  ceased  entirely  from  Christendom. 

Even  matters  of  religion  were  submitted  to  this  strange 
test.  In  the  eleventh  century,  the  question  was  agitated 
in  Spain  whether  the  Musarabic  liturgy  so  long  used  there, 
or  the  one  recommended  by  the  See  of  Rome,  contained 
the  form  of  worship  most  acceptable  to  God.  On  this 
'^int  a  violent  contest  ensued  between  the  Spaniards  and 
the  Popes ;  the  nobles  proposed  to  decide  the  controversy 
by  the  sword ;  the  king  seconded  their  suggestion,  and  the 
champions  in  full  armor  entered  the  lists.  The  Musarabic 
liturgy  was  victorious ;  but  the  vanquished  party  succeeded 
in  procuring  another  and  a  different  trial.  A  great  fire 
was  kindled ;  a  copy  of  each  liturgy  was  thrown  into  the 
flames ;  and  it  was  agreed,  that  the  one  which  stood  this 
test,  should  be  received  in  all  the  churches  of  Spain.  The 
Musarabic  still  triumphed,  and,  if  we  may  credit  the  writers 
of  that  age,  came  out  of  the  fire  unhurt,  while  the  other 
was  burnt  to  ashes. 

But  .4et  us  leave  those  dark  ages,  and  come  down 
to  the  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Long  had 
Christians  themselves,  apparently  without  remorse,  and 
certainly  without  reproach,  continued  to  engage  in  the 
slave-trade ;  and  nearly  all  the  apologies  now  pleaded  for 
war,  were  then  reiterated  to  justify  that  atrocious  traffic  in 
the  bodies  and  souls  of  men.  Prejudice,  and  passion,  and 
interest,  and  inveterate  custom,  all  clamored  loud  in  its  be- 
half, and  covered  with  obloquy  and  reproach  the  few  that 
dared  to  beard  the  monster  in  his  very  den.     But  humanity 


WAR    CURABLE. 


42 


and  religion  could  bear  it  no  longer ;  and  the  fireside,  the 
pulpit  and  the  senate,  the  cottage  and  the  palace  at  length 
rang  in  thunders  of  denunciation  against  the  vampyre 
gorged  for  so  many  ages  with  the  blood  of  a  continent.  A 
regenerated  public  opinion  decreed  its  doom ;  and  the  re- 
sult is  on  record.  The  slave-trade  is  now  regarded  as  pira- 
cy ;  the  slave-trader  is  put  under  the  ban  of  the  civilized 
world  as  fit  only  for  the  gallows ;  and,  though  Africa  still 
bleeds  at  many  a  pore  from  the  same  cause,  yet  that  prac- 
tice has  doubtless  received  its  death-blow. 

It  were  easy  to  multiply  examples ;  but  why  allude  to  in- 
temperance, and  persecution,  and  witchcraft,  and  other 
evils  already  abolished,  or  put  in  a  train  which  promises 
their  ultimate  abolition?  I  need  not  surely  specify  any 
more  cases  ;  for  if  such  customs  as  knight-errantry,  judiciiil 
combat,  and  the  slave-trade  have  already  been  wholly,  or 
but  partially  done  away,  is  there  no  possibility  of  putting 
an  end  to  war  ?  Is  this  custom,  unlike  any  other,  proof 
against  the  combined  power  of  earth  and  heaven  arrayed 
against  it? 

Review,  next,  the  meliorations  of  war  itself  Bad  as  the 
custom  still  is,  it  has  already  lost  more  than  half  its  primi- 
tive horrors,  and  undergone  changes  much  greater  than 
would  now  suffice  to  abolish  it  entirely.  Its  former  atroci- 
ties are  well  nigh  incredible.  Belligerents  employed  what- 
ever means  would  best  subserve-their  purposes  of  conquest, 
plunder  or  revenge.  They  poisoned  wells,  and  butchered 
men,  women  and  children  without  distinction.  They 
spared  none.  Prisoners  they  massacred  in  cold  blood,  or 
tortured  with  the  most  exquisite  cruelty ;  and,  when  unable 
to  reduce  a  fortified  place,  they  would  sometimes  collect 
before  it  a  multitude  of  these  victims,  and,  putting  them  all 
to  the  sword,  leave  their  carcasses  unburied,  that  the  stench 
might  compel  the  garrison  to  retire !  Such  atrocities  were 
practised  by  the  most  polished  nations  of  antiquity.  In 
Rome,  prisoners  were  either  sold  as  slaves,  or  put  to  death 
at  pleasure.  Kings  and  nobles,  women*  and  children  of 
high  birth,  chained  to  the  victor's  car,  were  dragged  in 
triumph  through  the  streets,  and  then  doomed  to  a  cruel 
death,  or  left  to  end  their  days  in  severe  and  hopeless  bon- 
dage ;  while  others  less  distinguished,  were  compelled  as 
gladiators  to  butcher  one  another  by  thousands  for  the 
amusement  of  Roman  citizens  I  But  such  barbarities  are 
indignantly  discarded  from  the  present  war-system  of  Chris- 


43  '    WAR   CURABLE.  7 

tendom ;  and  if  thus  ten  steps  have  already  been  taken — 
they  confessedly  have — towards  abolishing  this  custom,  is 
there  no  possibility  of  taking  the  six  more  that  alone  are 
requisite  to  complete  its  abolition  ? 

Nor  is  even  this  all ;  for  certain  kinds  of  war  have  ac- 
tually been  abolished.  Private  or  feudal  wars,  once  waged 
between  the  petty  chieftains  of  Europe,  and  frequently  oc- 
casioning even  more  mischief  than  flows  now  from  the  col- 
lision of  empires,  continued  for  centuries  to  make  the  very 
heart  of  Christendom  a  scene  of  confusion  and  terror. 
There  was  no  safety,  no  repose.  Every  baron  claimed  the 
right,  just  as  nations  now  do,  of  warring  against  his  neigh- 
bor at  pleasure.  His  castle  was  his  fortress,  and  every  one 
of  his  vassals  a  soldier  bound  to  take  the  field  at  the  bid- 
ding of  his  lord.  War  was  their  business ;  and  all  Europe 
they  kept  in  ceaseless  comipotion  or  alarm.  The  evil 
seemed  intolerable ;  and  the  strongest  influences  of  Chris- 
tendom were  arrayed  against  it.  Checks  were  devised,  and 
restrictions  gradually  imposed  ;  the  Royal  Truce,  and  the 
Truce  of  God  were  introduced  ;  associations  were  formed 
for  promoting  peace,  and  bonds  for  mutual  security  were 
given ;  the  emperor  and  the  pope,  the  magistrate  and  the 
priest,  the  ruler  and  the  citizen,  all  combined  against  it, 
and  succeeded,  though  not  till  after  the  lapse  of  four  or  five 
centuries,  in  exterminating  a  species  of  war  as  dreadful  as 
any  tliat  ever  scourged  our  world.  And  would  not  similar 
efforts  bring  international  wars  to  an  end  1 

Glance  at  some  of  the  causes  now  at  work  to  hasten 
such  a  result.  I  have  not  time  even  to  name  a  tithe  of 
these  causes;  it  would  require  a  volume  to  do  any  sort  of 
justice  to  this  part  of  our  subject ;  and  it  must  for  the  pres- 
ent suffice  to  know,  that  all  the  means  of  general  improve- 
ment, all  the  good  influences  of  the  age,  are  so  many  hand- 
maids to  the  cause  of  peace,  and  harbingers  of  its  universal 
spread  and  triumph.  The  progress  of  freedom,  and  popu- 
lar education; — the  growing  influence  of  the  people,  always 
the  chief  sufferers  from  war,  over  every  form  of  govern- 
ment ; — the  vastly  augmented  power  of  public  opinion  fast 
becoming  more  and  more  pacific ; — the  spirit  of  free  in- 
quiry, and  the  wide  diff'usion  of  knowledge  through  presses, 
and  pulpits,  and  schools; — the-  disposition  to  force  old 
usages,  institutions  and  opinions  through  the  severest 
ordeals;' — the  various  improvements  which  philanthropy, 
genius,  and  even  avarice  itself  are  every  where  making  in 


8  WAR    CURABLE.  44 

the  character  and  condition  of  mankind  ; — the  actual  dis- 
use of  war,  and  the  marked  desire  of  rulers  themselves  to 
supersede  it  by  the  adoption  of  pacific  expedients  that 
promise  ere-long  to  re-construct  the  international  policy  of 
the  civilized  world; — the  pacific  tendencies  of  literature, 
science,  and  all  the  arts  that  minister  to  individual,  comfort, 
or  national  prosperity  ; — the  more  frequent,  more  extended 
intercourse  of  Christians  and  learned  men  in  different  parts 
of  the  earth ; — the  wide  extension  of  commerce,  and  the 
consequent  interlinking  over  the  globe  of  interests  which 
war  must  destroy  ; — the  rapid  spread  of  the  gospel  in  pagan 
lands,  the  fuller  development  of  its  spirit  in  Christendom, 
and  the  more  direct,  more  efficacious  application  of  its 
principles  to  every  species  of  sin  and  misery  ; — all  the  en- 
terprises of  associated  benevolence  and  reform,  but  espe- 
cially the  combined  efforts  mnde  to  disseminate  the  princi- 
ples of  peace,  to  pour  the  full  light  of  heaven  on  the  guilt 
and  evils  of  war,  and  thus  unite  the  friends  of  God  and 
man  everywhere  against  this  master-scourge  of  our  race; — 
such  are  some  of  the  influences  now  at  work  in  behalf  of 
universal  and  permanent  peiice. 

Nor  have  these  causes  been  at  work  in  vain.  "  Already 
is  the  process  begun,  by  which  Jehovah  is  going  to  fulfil 
the  amazing  predictions  of  his  word.  Even  now  is  the  fire 
kindled  at  the  forges  where  swords  are  yet  to  be  beaten 
into  plough-shares,  and  spears  into  pruning-hooks.  The 
teachers  are  already  abroad  who  shall  persuade  the  nations 
to  learn  war  no  more.  If  we  would  hasten  that  day,  we 
have  only  to  throw  ourselves  into  the  current,  and  we  may 
row  with  the  tide.  There  may  be  here  and  there  a  counter- 
current  ;  but  the^  main  stream  is  flowing  steadily  on,  and 
the  order  of  Providence  is  rolling  forward  the  sure  result." 

The  gospel,  rightly  applied,  is  amply  sufficient  for  such 
a  result.  It  is  God's  own  power  at  work  for  the  world's 
eventual  deliverance  from  all  forms  of  error,  sin  and  misery. 
There  is  no  passion  it  cannot  subdue,  no  vice  it  cannot  re- 
form, no  evil  custom  it  cannot  abolish,  no  moral  malady  it 
cannot  cure,  no  inveteracy  of  error  or  sin  from  which  it 
cannot  reclaim.  Its  history,  as  well  as  its  nature,  proves 
its  power;  and  a  libel  would  it  be  on  God  himself  to  sup- 
pose his  chosen  instrument  for  a  world's  spiritual  renova- 
tion, inadequate  to  the  task  of  exterminating  war  from  every 
land  blest  with  its  heavenly  light. 

On  this  point  God  has  taken  care  to  leave  no  room  for 


45  WAR    CURABLE.  9 

doubt.  Expressly,  repeatedly  has  he  promised,  that  *the 
earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  his  name,  even 
as  the  waters  cover  the  sea ;  that  the  kingdoms  of  this 
world  shall  all  become  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Sa- 
vior, Jesus  Christ ;'  and  then  *  shall  they  beat  their  swords 
into  plough-shares,  and  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks  ; 
nation  shall  no  longer  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither 
shajl  they  learn  war  any  more.'  Thus  has  God  promised 
the  world's  eventual  pacification  as  explicitly  as  he  has  the 
world's  conversion,  or  even  the  salvation  of  any  believer  in 
Jesus  ;  and  we  must  either  discard  the  whole  Bible,  or  be- 
lieve in  the  possibility,  the  absolute  certainty  of  universal 
and  permanent  peace. 

It  is  not  incumbent  on  us  to  show  hoiv  these  prophecies, 
any  more  than  how  the  other  promises  of  God,  are  to  be  ful- 
filled ;  and  yet  it  were  easy  to  point  out  a  variety  of  expedients 
that  might,  with  safety  and  success,  take  the  place  of  war. 
There  is  in  truth  no  more  need  of  this  custom  among  Chris- 
tian nations  than  there  is  of  paganism  itself  They  could, 
if  they  would,  settle  all  their  difficulties  without  war  as 
well  as  the  members  of  a  church  can  theirs  without  duels. 
There  is  no  impossibility  in  the  case.  Substitutes  far  bet- 
ter than  the  sword  for  all  purposes  of  protection  and  re- 
dress, might  be  made  to  supersede  entirely  the  alleged  ne- 
cessity of  war  between  nations,  just  as  codes  and  courts  of 
law  did  the  practice  of  war  between  individuals. 

Let  us  analyze  this  plea  of  necessity.  Men  in  our 
Southern  States,  insist  on  the  necessity  of  duelling ;  but 
are  they  really  compelled,  whether  they  will  or  not,  to  shoot, 
and  stab,  and  hew  each  other  down  in  cold  blood  ?  There 
is  no  such  compulsion  in  the  case;  they  must  solely  be- 
cause they  will.  And  why  will  they  ?  Why  does  excited 
passion  at  the  South  vent  itself  in  duels  1  Custom  there 
has  hewn  out  this  channel  of  blood  into  which  excited  pas- 
sion flows.  But  why  in  New  England  does  the  same  de- 
gree of  passion  never  lead  to  duels  ?  Public  opinion  here 
frowns  upon  the  duellist  as  a  cool,  calculating  murderer. 
Yet  is  human  nature  the  same  in  South  Carolina  that  it  is 
in  Massachusetts ;  the  whole  difference  arises  from  the  dif- 
ferent education  of  the  two  communities  ;  and,  were  all 
mankind  educated  to  regard  war  as  we  at  the  North  do  the 
kindred  custom  of  duelling,  nations  would  no  more  dream 
of  venting  their  passions,  or  settling  their  disputes  by  war, 
than  Christians  do  theirs  by  duels. 


10  WAR    CURABLE.  4& 

Mark  the  result  in'both  customs.  What  settles  a  quar- 
rel between  duellists  ?  Not  the  shots  or  stabs  interchanged, 
but  the  explanation  subsequently  given  and  accepted. 
They  fight  merely  to  make  it  honorable  to  explain  ;  and 
that  explanation,  should  custom  so  decide,  might  come  just 
as  well  before  as  after  fighting.  So  in  war,  the  fighting, 
in  every  case  of  civilized  warfare,  is  only  preliminary  to 
steps  for  settling  the  dispute  on  grounds  of  equity  and  rea- 
son. Nations,  like  duellists,  fight  solely  to  render  it  honor- 
able, or  themselves  willing  to  negotiate,  or  refer,  or  employ 
some  other  pacific  expedients  that  might  be  used  even  more 
successfully  before  the  war  than  after  it. 

We  cannot  here  dwell  on  these  substitutes  for  war — ne- 
gotiation^  where  the  parties  adjust  their  own  difficulties  with- 
out the  aid  of  others ;  arbitration,  when  they  refer  the 
points  in  dispute  to  an  umpire ;  mtdiation,  when  a  third 
power  friendly  to  both,  offers  its  services  as  mediator ;  or, 
better  than  all,  a  congress  of  nations,  designed  first  to  frame 
a  specific,  authoritative  code  of  international  law,  and  next 
to  apply  that  law,  and  adjudicate  whatever  cases  might  be 
voluntarily  referred  to  its  decision.  Here  are  substitutes 
enough,  all  founded  on  the  principle  of  amicable  agreement 
between  the  parties  themselves,  or  that  of  reference  to  a 
third  party  mutually  chosen ;  expedients  essentially  the 
same  with  those  which  are  so  generally  adopted  by  men  of 
sense  and  virtue  in  social  life ;  expedients  that  have  in  past 
ages  been  occasionally  employed  by  nations  with  signal  suc- 
cess; expedients  that  are  certainly  possible,  and,  if  so, 
render  war  entirely  unnecessary,  except  from  the  wrong 
choice  of  men. 

But  is  there  no  possibility  of  changing  this  choice  ?  Is 
Christendom  itself,  with  its  Bibles,  and  Sabbaths,  and 
churches,  its  preachers  of  peace,  and  all  its  instrumental- 
ities for  the  reformation  of  mankind,  such  a  kennel  of 
blood-hounds  as  never  to  be  won  from  the  love  of  mutual 
butchery  ?  Let  us  bring  the  question  home  to  your  own 
bosom.  Will  you  acknowledge  yourself  to  be  such  an  in- 
satiate blood-leech,  that  you  never  can,  never  will  give  up 
war  ?  No :  you  abhor  the  custom,  and  would  gladly  super- 
sede it  entirely  by  better  methods  for  the  adjustment  of 
national  difficulties.  Go  to  your  neighbor  ;  and  will  he  not 
readily  respond  to  these  views  ?  Go  through  the  land,  traverse 
the  civilized  world  ;  and  how  few  could  you  find  that  did  not 
feel,  or  might  not  easily  be  made  to  feel,  your  own  abhor- 


47  WAR    CURABLE.  11 

rence  of  war,  and  desire  for  peace.  Where  then  is  the 
impossibility  of  changing  the  war-choice  of  mankind  ?  Is 
there  no  power  in  the  family,  the  school,  or  the  church, 
none  in  the  press,  or  the  pulpit,  none  in  civilization,  or 
Christianity,  to  reclaim  the  inhabitants  even  of  Christendom 
from  their  love  of  war,  and  persuade  them  to  adopt  other 
means  than  the  sword  for  the  settlement  of  their  disputes? 

True,  such  a  result  we  do  not  expect,  as  no  man  in  his 
senses  can  expect  any  moral  result,  without  the  use  of  ap- 
propriate means.  The  moral  suasion  of  the  gospel,  the 
power  of  Christian  truth  and  love,  must  be  applied  long 
and,  well  to  this  custom.  Light  must  be  poured  upon  it 
from  reason  and  history  ;  its  enormous  guilt  must  be  set 
forth  in  the  full  blaze  of  revelation ;  its  immeasurable  evils 
for  time  and  eternity,  must  be  spread  as  far  as  possible  be- 
fore every  class  in  the  community  ;  and  such  a  process  of 
exposure  must  be  continued,  until  the  mass  of  minds  in 
every  Christian  land  shall  come  to  regard  this  relic  of  a 
bloody  and  barbarous  paganism  with  a  portion  of  God's 
own  unmingled  abhorrence.  Christians  must  as  a  body 
gird  themselves  in  earnest  for  this  work  as  peculiarly  their 
own ;  preachers  of  the  gospel  must  enforce  its  pacific,  just 
as  they  do  any  of  its  other  truths,  and  pour  down  upon  this 
mass  of  crime  and  misery  a  flood  of  heaven's  own  light ; 
the  press  must  be  made  to  teem  with  facts,  and  arguments, 
and  appeals  in  behalf  of  this  cause ;  teachers  in  all  our 
schools  must  instil  the  sentiments  of  peace  into  the  young 
minds  under  their  care;  and  all  pious  parents  must  care- 
fully guard  their  own  children  against  the  manifold  delusions 
of  war,  and  let  them  sport  with  no  more  of  its  toys,  and 
listen  to  no  more  of  its  songs,  and  gaze  at  no  more  of  its  pic- 
tures or  glittering  armor,  and  be  present  at  no  more  of  its 
fascinating  displays,  and  witness  no  more  of  its  pomp,  parade 
or  splendor,  but  honestly  teach  them  to  regard  every  shred 
of  this  custom  as  steeped  in  pollution,  blood  and  tears. 

All  this  can  be  done  ;  and,  if  done,  God's  promised  bless- 
ing would  make  sure  the  result.  Let  the  gospel,  wherever 
preached,  be  rightly  applied  to  this  custom;  let  the  press 
be  fully  enlisted  in  behalf  of  this  cause ;  let  every  minister 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace  do  his  whole  duty  on  this  subject ; 
let  Christians  of  every  name  all  come  up  to  this  work  as 
one  man,  and  put  forth  their  utmost  energies ;  let  asso- 
ciations, if  necessary,  be  formed,  and  scores  of  selected 
advocates  plead,  and  the  friends  of  humanity  all  rally 
with  their  gifts,  and  prayers,  and  personal  efforts  for  the 


12  WAR   CURABLE.  49 

use  of  such  means  as  God  hath  appointed  for  the  spread  of 
peace  co-extensive  with  our  peaceful  religion  ;  let  books, 
and  tracts,  and  pamphlets,  and  periodicals,  full  of  stir- 
ring facts,  and  of  logic  all  on  fire,  be  scattered  far  and  wide 
in  every  city  and  town,  in  every  village,  hamlet  and  habi- 
tation ;  let  every  church,  every  Sabbath  and  common  school, 
every  academy  and  college,  every  seminary  of  learning,  from 
the  highest  to  the  lowest,  every  fire-side  in  Christendonv,  be- 
come a  nursery  of  peace,  to  train  up  a  whole  generation  of 
peace-makers ;  let  all  these  hold  up  war  before  every  class 
in  the  community  as  a  giant  offender  against  God,  as  the 
master-scourge  of  our  world  ;  and  could  this  or  any  other 
custom  long  stand  before  such  an  array  of  influences  ? 

Such  are  the  instruments  which  the  friends  of  peace  have 
begun  to  employ  against  war  ;  and  the  God  of  peace  has 
crowned  their  efforts  with  a  degree  of  success,  even 
greater  in  proportion  to  the  means  used,  than  in  any  other 
enterprise  now  before  the  community.  Scarce  a  tenth  part 
as  much  has  been  done  for  this  cause  as  for  any  other  ;  and 
yet  have  we  already  (1844)  reached  results  vastly  important, 
and  prospects  still  more  cheering.  Our  own  country  has 
been  saved  from  several  wars  that  threatened  it :  the  general 
peace  of  Europe  has,  for  a  wonder,  been  preserved  for  nearly 
thirty  years ;  public  sentiment  on  this  subject  is  widely  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  was  even  at  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century  ;  difficulties  which  would  once  have  plunged  nations 
in  blood,  are  now  adjusted  with  scarce  a  thought  of  resort- 
ing to  arms  ;  negotiation,  reference,  and  mediation,  are  ac- 
tually taking  the  place  of  war,  and  gradually  effacing  the  tradi- 
tional belief  of  its  necessity ;  the  leading  cabinets  of  Christen- 
dom seem  disposed  to  adopt  these  substitutes  as  their  settled, 
permanent  policy  ;  and  this  course,  if  continued  only  half  a 
century  longer,  will  probably  supersede  in  time  the  whole 
war-system,  by  accustoming  nations  to  settle  their  disputes 
in  essentially  the  same  way  that  individuals  now  do  theirs. 

It  can  be  done.  Give  us  the  means,  and  it  shall  be 
done.  Let  us  have  not  a  tenth,  nor  even  a  hundredth,  but 
only  a  thousandth  part  of  the  money  and  moral  power  now 
wasted  upon  the  war-system  even  in  peace  ;  and  we  will, 
with  the  promised  aid  and  blessing  of  God,  set  at  work  such  a 
train  of  influences  as  shall  ere-long  banish  this  custom  from 
every  Christian  land,  or  so  far  neutralize  its  power  as  to  leave 
only  its  skeleton  to  show  future  ages  what  the  monster  was  ! 

■■•*■■■■!  — 'f"    r    \   gag 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTO.V,  MASS. 


No.  VI. 

FOUR  ASPECTS   OF   WAR. 


I.  Does  War  forgive  ?  —  A  friend  of  peace  once  asked  a 
general  on  a  muster-field,  '  What  do  you  mean  by  this  array  of 
swords,  muskets  and  cannon  .? ' — "  We  mean  to  be  avenged  on 
our  enemies,  should  they  insult  or  invade  us." — '  But  we  are 
bound  to  forgive  our  enemies,  should  they  injure  us.' — "So  we 
will,"  said  the  general. — '  But,  if  you  really  forgive  them,  what  do 
you  want  of  swords,  rifles  and  cannon  ? ' — "  To  stab  and  shoot 
them." — '  But,  if  you  forgive  them,  how  could  you  at  the  same 
time  shoot  and  stab  them  ?' — "  I  think,"  said  the  general,  "  I  can 
feel  forgiveness  in  my  heart  towards  my  enemy,  while  I  ajn  slioot- 
ing  and  stabbing  him.  Can  I  not  .^ " — '  If  you  can,  you  take  a 
queer  way  of  showing  it.  How  can  you  show  your  forgiveness  by 
swords  and  guns  ? ' — "  I  am  sure,"  he  replied,  "  it's  more  than  I 
can  tell." — '  Perhaps,'  said  the  peace-man,  '  you  have  the  art  of 
shooting  and  stabbing  your  forgiveness  into  the  hearts  of  your 
enemies  ;  and  it  may  be  the  object  of  your  review  to  perfect  your- 
selves in  this  art.  Is  it  so  ? ' — "  I  tliink,"  replied  he  very  honestly 
and  truly,  "  we  are  more  likely  to  perfect  ourselves  in  the  art  of 
killing  them." 

*  Could  you,'  inquired  a  peace-man  of  a  military  officer,  '  could 
you,  after  a  battle  in  which  you  had  stained  your  hands  with  the 
blood  of  your  brethren,  ask  God  to  forgive  you  as  you  had  forgiven 
your  enemies  ? ' — "  I  am  not  a  Christian,"  said  he,  "  nor  do  I  pro- 
fess to  forgive  the  wrongs  done  to  me  and  my  country ;  but  I 
know  I  should  be  a  hypocrite  and  a  blasphemer,  if  I  should  ask 
God  to  forgive  me  as  I  had  forgiven  my  enemies, 'after  I  had  been 
killing  them.  When  I  ask  Him  to  forgive  me  as  I  have  my  ene- 
mies, I  will  cease  to  kill  them,  or  to  encourage  others  in  doing 
so." 

II.  CaxN  we  reconcile  War  with  Christianity? — Let  us 
put  the  main  aspects  of  the  two  side  by  side,  and  see  how  far  they 
agree.  Christianity  saves  men ;  war  destroys  them.  Christianity 
elevates  men  ;  war  debases  and  degrades  them.  Christianity  pu- 
rifies men ;  war  corrupts  and  defiles  them.  Christianity  blesses 
men  ;  war  curses  them.  God  says,  thou  shalt  not  kill ;  war  says, 
thou  shall  kill.  God  says,  blessed  are  the  peace-makers  ;  war 
says,  blessed  are  the  war-makers.  God  says,  love  your  enemies ; 
war  says,  hate  them.  God  says,  forgive  men  their  trespasses  ; 
war  says,  forgive  them  not  God  enjoins  forgiveness,  and  forbids 
revenge  ;  while  war  scorns  tJie  former,  and  commands  the  latter. 
God  says,  resist  not  evil ;  war  says,  you  may  and  must  resist  evil. 
God  says,  if  any  man  smite'  thee  on  one  cheek,  turn  to  him  the 
other  also ;    war  says,  turn  not  the  other  cheek,  but  knock  the 

p.  T.      NO.  VI, 


2  FOUR    ASPECTS    OF    WAR.  50 

smiter  down.  God  says,  bless  those  who  curse  you ;  bless,  and 
curse  not :  war  says,  curse  tliose  who  curse  you  ;  curse,  and  bless 
not.  God  says,  pray  for  those  who  despitefully  use  you ;  war  says, 
j.ray  against  them,  and  seek  then-  destruction.  God  says,  see  tliat 
none  render  evil  for  evil  unto  any  man ;  war  says,  be  sure  to 
render  evil  for  evil  unto  all  that  injure  you.  God  says,  overcome 
evil  with  good  ;  war  says,  overcome  evil  with  eviL  God  says,  if 
thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink :  war 
says,  if  you  do  supply  your  enemies  with  food  and  clothing,  you 
shall  be  shot  as  a  traitor.  God  says,  do  good  unto  all  men  ;  war 
says,  do  as  much  evil  as  you  can  to  your  enemies.  God  says  to 
all  men,  love  one  another ;  war  says,  hate  and  kill  one  another. 
God  says,  tliey  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  by  tlie  sword ;  war 
says,  they  that  take  tlie  sword,  shall  be  saved  by  the  sword.  God 
says,  blessed  is  he  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord  ;  war  says,  cursed  is 
such  a  man,  and  blessed  is  he  who  trusteth  in  swords  and  guns. 
God  says,  beat  your  swords  into  ploughshares,  your  spears  into 
pruning-hooks,  and  learn  war  no  more ;  war  says,  make  swords 
and  spears  still,  and  continue  to  learn  war — until  all  mankind  have 
ceased  from  learning  it,  i.  e.,  fight,  all  of  you,  until  all  of  you  stop 
fighting !  I 

III.  The  Soldier  and  the  Lord^s  Prater. — ^Let  us,  said 
the  celebrated  Erasmus  more  than  three  centuries  ago,  let  ua 
imagine  we  hear  a  soldier  among  these  fghting  Christians  saying 
the  Lord's  Prayer  just  before  battle.  Our  Father  !  says  he.  O, 
liardened  wretch  !  can  you  call  God  Father,  when  you  are  just 
going  to  cut  your  brother's  tliroat  ? — Hallowed  be  thy  name.  How 
can  the  name  of  God  be  more  impiously  t/nhallowed  than  by  mu- 
tual bloody  murder  among  his  sons  ? — Thy  kingdom  come.  Do 
you  pray  for  the  coming  of  his  kingdom,  while  you  are  endeavor- 
ing to  establish  an  earthly  despotism  by  spilling  the  blood  of  God's 
sons  and  subjects  ? — Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven. 
His  will  in  heaven  is  for  peace  ;  but  you  are  now  meditating 
WAR. — Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.  How  dare  you  say  this 
to  your  Father  in  heaven  at  the  m(5ment  you  are  going  to  bum 
your  brother's  corn-fields,  and  would  rather  lose  the  benefit  of 
them  yourself  than  suffer  him  to  enjoy  them  unmolested  ? — For- 
eive  vs  our  trespasses  as  tee  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us. 
With  what  face  can  you  pray  thus  when,  so  far  from  forgiving 
your  brother,  you  are  going  with  all  the  haste  you  can,  to  murder 
him  in  cold  blood  for  an  alleged  trespass  which,  after  all,  is  but 
imaginary  r — Lead  vs  not  into  temptation.  And  do  you  presume 
to  deprecate  temptation  or  danger — you  who  are  not  only  rushing 
into  it  yourself,  but  doing  all  you  can  to  force  your  brother  into 
it  ? — Deliver  us  from  evil.  You  pray  to  be  delivered  from  evil,  that 
is,  from  the  e\'il  being,  Satan,  to  whose  unpulses  you  are  now 
submitting  yourself,  and  by  whose  spirit  you  are  guided  in  con- 
triving tlie  greatest  possible  evil  to  your  brother  ? 

IV.  What  is  the  difference  between  a  professed  Sol- 
dier and  a  hired  Assassin  ? — ^Let  us  state  the  case.    Every 


51  FOUR    ASPECTS    OF    WAR.  3 

reader  in  America  remembers  the  "  Salem  Tragedy."  Joseph 
and  Francis  Knapp,  distant  relatives  of  a  rich  old  gentleman  in 
Salem  by  the  name  of  White,  instigated  Richard  Crowninshield, 
by  the  orfer  of  a  thousand  dollars  of  the  plunder,  to  kill  the  old 
man,  and  seize  his  treasures.  Crowninshield,  entering  the  house 
of  his  victim  at  midnight,  and  creeping  softly  up  stairs  to  the  room 
wliere  he  was  sleeping,  sti'uck  him  over  the  head  witli  a  bludgeon, 
and  then  turning  down  tlie  clothes,  stabbed  him  several  times  in 
the  heart  with  a  dagger.  Every  body  called  him  a  hired  assassin ; 
and  he  would  have  be&n  hung  as  an  atrocious  murderer,  if  he  had 
not  in  his  prison  hung  himself.  The  two  Knapps  were  tried,  con- 
victed and  hung  for  hiring  Crowninshield  to  assassinate  Mr. White. 

Here  is  a  clear  case  of  hired  assassination  ;  and  wherein  does 
it  differ  from  the  profession  of  a  soldier  ?  Doubtless  there  is  some 
difference  ;  but  in  what  does  it  consist,  and  to  what  does  it 
amount  ?     How  far  are  the  two  professions  or  acts  alike  ? 

Let  us  look  at  the  facts.  Here  is  a  nation  of  ten,  twenty  or 
fifty  millions,  that  hire  you  as  one  of  their  soldiers  to  kill  whom- 
soever they  may  wish  to  have  killed,  and  promise  to  give  you, 
besides  your  food  and  clothing,  some  ten  or  twenty  cents  a  day. 
The  nation,  indignant  that  the  Chinese  spurn  their  opium,  or  that 
the  Afghans  reject  their  favorite  ruler,  or  tliat  the  Seminoles  will 
not  give  up  their  lands,  the  inheritance  of  fifty  generations,  to 
some  avaricious  white  men,  order  you  to  go  and  kill  them,  bum 
their  dwellings,  and  butcher,  without  distinction  or  mercy,  thou- 
sands o*f  unoffending  men,  women  and  children. 

We  see  now  the  facts  in  the  two  cases  ;  and  what  is  the  differ- 
ence ?  The  deed  is  the  same,  except  that  in  one  case  a  single 
man  was  killed,  and  in  the  other  thousands,  or  scores  of  thousands. 
The  motive,  too,  is  essentially  the  same — w^ith  the  employers,  self- 
aggrandizement  ;  witli  tlie  hired  agents,  pay.  The  difference,  for 
there  is  some,  will  not  redound  much  to  the  soldier's  credit  over 
the  assassin.  The  soldier  hires  himself  to  millions  of  men  called 
a  nation ;  Crowninshield  hired  himself  to  only  two  men.  The 
soldier  hires  himself  out  to  kill  whomsoever  the  nation  may  wish  to 
have  killed  at  any  time ;  tlie  assassin  engaged  to  do  a  specified  ad, 
to  kill  a  single  man  at  a  given  time,  and  tliat  man  named  before- 
hand. The  soldier  is  hired  to  kill  by  the  month  or  year ;  the 
assassin  w^as  hired  by  the  job.  The  soldier  is  a  day-laborer  in  the 
work  of  blood ;  the  assassin  is  a  jobber  at  the  same  trade.  The 
assassin  is  better  paid  than  the  soldier ;  for  the  former  was  prom- 
ised a  thousand  dollars  for  killing  one  man,  while  the  latter  might 
kill  a  hundred  in  a  day  without  getting  half  a  dollar  for  the  whole. 
The  soldier  agrees  to  kill  any  and  all  whom  the  nation  may  bid ; 
and,  if  required  to  shoot  his  own  father  or  mother,  brother  or  sis- 
ter, wife  or  child,  he  must  shoot  them,  or  be  shot  himself;  whereas 
the  assassin,  had  he  refused  to  kill -the  old  man  according  to  agree- 
ment, would  not  himself  have  been  liable  to  be  hung.  The 
soldier  makes  a  fearful  bargain ;  for,  though  aware  that,  if  he 
refuse  to  kill  any  whom  the  nation  may  bid  him  kill,  he  must 


4  FOUR    ASPECTS    OF    WAR.  62 

himself  be  put  to  death,  he  nevertheless  enters  into  the  bloody 
compact,  not  knowing  but  he  may  be  ordered  to  shoot  or  stab  his 
own  parents,  Avile  or  children.  Nofr  so  bad  tiie  assassin's  bargain. 
Had  Crowninshield  engaged  to  kill  at  any  time  any  body  whom 
the  Knapps  might  wish  to  have  killed,  with  the  understanding  tliat 
he  should  himself  be  put  to  death  if  he  ever  refused  to  kill  any  one 
tliey  should  bid,  there  would  be  a  pretty  close  analogy  betw>een 
his  c:ise  and  that  of  ttie  professed  soldier.  But  the  assassin's  posi- 
tion was  not  so  terrible.  The  soldier  must  kill  whomsoever  his 
employers  may  bid  him  kill,  or  the  terms  of  his  contract  make  him 
liable  to  be  shot  or  hung  himself.  v 

Now,  let  every  reader  judge  between  tlie  two,  and  tell  us,  if  he 
can,  why  a  hired  assassin,  like  Crowninshield,  should  be  hung 
as  a  monster  of  wickedness,  while  the  soldier,  hired  by  twenty, 
millions  to  do  tlie  same  deed  hxf  wlmltsale^  is  admired  and  eulogized 
as  a  hero  ?  To  kill  mtdtUudes  at  the  bidding  of  millions,  is  deemed 
patriotic,  glorious.  Christian,  wortliy  of  songs,  and  eulogies,  and 
monuments  ;  but  to  kill  one  m-m  at  the  bidding  of  another  one,  is 
denounced  as  base,  infamous,  diabolical,  deserving  of  the  gallows, 
of  eternal  infamy.  Well  did  Bishop  Porteus  say, 
"  One  murder  makes  a  villain  ; 
Millions,  a  hero." 

Will  the  professed  soldier  never  be  classed  with  the  hired  as- 
sassin ?  How  nmch  longer  will  men  of  any  principle,  conscience 
or  self-respect,  hire  themselves  out  to  tlie  work  of  robbery  and 
murder.'  How  long  will  professed  Christians,  or  any  Christian 
community,  respect  or  even  tolerate  the  military  profession,  the 
trade  of  hmnan  butcher}'  ? 

Jesus  Christ. — My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ;  if  my  king- 
dom were  of  this  world,-then  would  my  servtintsfght. 

Ire-\-¥:us,  a.  D.  180. — Cliristians  have  changed  their  swords 
into  instruments  of  peace ;  and  they  know  not  how  to  fight. 

Tertullian,  a.  D.  197. — Can  one  who  professes  the  peace- 
able doctrine  of  tlie  gospel,  be  a  soldier  7  Jesus  Christ,  by  disarm- 
ing Peter,  disarmed  every  soldier  afterwards ;  for  custom  can 
never  sanction  a  wrong  act 

Jeremy  Taylor. — As  contrary  as  cruelty  is  to  mercy,  tyranny 
to  charity,  so  is  war  to  tlie  meekness  and  gentleness  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion. 

Robert  Hall. — War  reverses  all  the  rules  of  moralUy.  It  is 
nothing  less  than  a  temporary. repeal  of  the  principles  of 
virtue. 

Lord  Brougham. — I  abominate  war  as  unchristian.  I  hold  it 
to  be  the  greatest  of  human  crimes.  I  deem  it  to  include  all 
others — violence,  blood,  rapine,  fraud,  every  tiling  which  can  de- 
form the  character,  and  debase  the  name  of  man. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  VII. 
UNIVERSAL    PEACE. 


-        BY  REV.  DAVID  BOGUE,  D.  D.,  LONDON. 

"  In  the  last  days  it  shall  come  to  pass  that  the  mountain  of  the 
house  of  the  Lord  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  mountains, 
and  it  shall  be  exalted  above  the  hills  ;  and  people  shall  flow  unto 
it  And  many  nations  shall  come,  and  say,  Come,  and  let  us  go 
up  to  the  mountain  of  the  Lord,  and  to  the  house  of  the  God  of 
Jacob ;  and  he  will  teach  us  of  his  ways,  and  we  will  walk  in  his 
paths  ;  for  the  law  shall  go  forth  of  Zion,  and  the  word  of  the 
Lord  from  Jerusalem.  And  he  shall  judge  among  many  people, 
and  rebuke  strong  nations  afar  off;  and  they  shall  beat  their  swords 
into  ploughshares,  and  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks ;  nation 
shall  not  lift  up  a  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  tliey  learn 
war  any  more.  But  they  shall  sit  every  man  under  his  vine,  and 
under  his  fig-tree ;  and  none  shall  make  them  afraid ;  for  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  hath  spoken  it."  f 

Here  is  a  prophetic  sketch  of  the  millennium.  During  that 
period,  "  nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation."  Universal 
harmony  will  prevail.  No  desire  of  conquest  will  then  be  found. 
Contented  with  tlieir  own  territory,  none  will  seek  to  encroach  on 
their  neighbors'  lands.  Over  the  face  of  the  whole  earth,  peace 
shall  reign,  and  the  nations  shall  form  a  holy  brotherhood,  emulous 
to  promote  each  other's  prosperity  and  happiness.  The  art  of 
murdering  will  then  cease  ;  "  they  shall  learn  war  no  more."  No 
naval  nor  military  colleges  shall  then  exist ;  no  time,  no  labor,  no 
skill  be  employed  to  teach  the  stripling  and  the  recruit  how  to 
fight,  and  how  to  wound  and  slay.  The  study  then -among  Christ's 
disciples  will  be  after  the  example  of  their  Master,  "  who  came 
not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save  them." 

So  discordant  is  this  description  with  the  general  sentiments, 
and  feelings,  and  practice  of  mankind  in  the  present  day,  that 
some  may  still  be  inclined  to  disbelieve  the  existence  of  such  a 
state,  and  be  ready  to  exclaim  with  the  v(^ice  of  incredulity,  "  it  is 
impossible."  The  spirit  of  God,  foreseeing  tliis  obduracy  of  heart, 
in  order  to  remove  every  doubt,  inspired  the  prophet  Micah  to  add 
these  omnipotent  words,  "  For  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken 

*  This  tract  is  taken  from  one  of  a  series  of  Discourses  on  the 
Millennium,  delivered  in  1813  when  Napoleon  was  at  the  acme  of 
his  career.  Dr.  Bogue,  born  in  Scotland  1750,  settled  in  London 
1774,  and  removed  in  1777  to  the  superintendence  of  the  Missionary 
Seminary  at  Gosport,  died  in  1825,  one  of  the  best  men  of  his  age, 
and  a  master-spirit  in  starting  and  sustaining  the  great  enterprises 
now  at  work  for  the  world's  conversion. — Am.  Ed. 
t  Mieahiv.  1—4. 


2  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  54 

It"  He  whom  the  word  of  the  faithful  God  will  not  satisfy,  has 
no  hig-hcr  evidence  to  receive,  and  must  be  left  to  the  curse  of  his 
unbelief;  but  surely  every  Christian  must  say,  "the  Lord  hath 
spoken,  and  I  believe  his  word." 

Let  your  heart.  Christian,  sweetly  repose  on  this  delightful 
scene ;  for  wearied  and  harassed  you  must  be  with  the  din  of 
arms,  with  the  sight  of  slaughter,  and  the  widely  extended  range 
of  human  misery.  Turn  your  eyes  away  from  the  hateful  specta- 
cle, and  look  forward  to  the  joyful  season,  when  war  shall  be 
unknown  but  in  tradition ;  and  when  all  the  nations  of  the  world 
shall  dwell  together  in  peace  and  love.  Now  tlie  aim  of  every 
ruler  in  Christendom  is  to  do  all  the  injury  in  his  power  to  the 
nations  with  which  he  is  at  war.  Now  men  of  the  most  gigantic 
and  highly  cultivated  minds,  arc  employing  all  tlieir  energies, 
night  and  day,  to  invent  metliods  by  which  slaughter  and  desola- 
tion may  be  most  widely  scattered.  Now  hundreds  of  tliousands 
of  men  are  enduring  fatigues,  suffering  privations,  and  exposing 
themselves  to  dangers  and  deaths  beyond  what  words  can  express, 
to  carry  tlie  plans  of  others  into  execution,  by  spreading  destruc- 
tion as  extensively  as  possible. 

How  solacing  is  it  to  look  forward  to  the  period  predicted  in  the 
passage  we  have  quoted  from  the  prophet  I  Then  the  rulers  of  the 
world,  while  their  first  cares  are  employed  for  the  happiness  of 
their  own  people,  will  also  extend  tlieir  concern  to  other  nations, 
and  strive  to  promote  tlieir  welfare  and  prosperity  as  widely  as 
they  can.  Then  men  of  superior  talents  wDl  exercise  them  in 
endeavoring  to  make  discoveries  by  which  other  countries  as  well 
as  their  own  may  reap  essential  benefit  Then  the  energies  of  our 
youth  will  be  engaged  in  the  peaceful  occupations  of  domestic 
life  ;  and  such  as  leave  their  native  land,  will  endeavor  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  the  regions  to  v/hich  tliey  go. 

But  still  some  may  ask,  "  How  can  these  things  be  ?"  So  dif- 
ferent is  tliat  state  of  things  from  tlic  present,  or  from  any  which 
the  world  has  yet  exhibited,  that  it  may  appear  to  some  a  mere 
chimera,  a  Utopian  dream.  But  let  such  persons  weigh  the  fol- 
lowing considerations : 

1.  The  natural  result  of  tlie  doctrines  and  precepts  of  the  Gos- 
pel. Hear  its  language.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  tliy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind  : 
This  is  tlie  first  and  great  commandment  And  the  second  is  like 
unto  it.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.*  Ye  have 
heard  that  it  hath  been  s;iid.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor,  and 
hate  thine  enemy.  But  I  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies,  bless 
them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  tliat  iiate  you,  and  pray  for 
them  which  despitefully  use  you  and  persecute  you.f  Dearly 
beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves,  but  rather  give  place  unto  wratli ; 
for  it  is  written,  Vengeance  is  mine  ;  I  will  repay,  saitli  the  Lord. 
Therefore,  if  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he  tliirst,  give  hira 

•  Matt,  xxil  37,  38, 39.  f  Matt.  v.  43,  44. 


65  UNIVERSAL   PEACE.  3 

drink ;  for  in  so  doing  thou  slialt  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head. 
Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good."  *  Of  the 
spirit  and  commands  of  tiie  Gospel,  these  passages  furnish  a  fair 
specimen,  and  teach  us  what  Christians  ought  to  be.  Do  these 
encourage  or  even  permit  a  disciple  of  Jesus  to  take  away  the 
precious  life  of  the  inhabitant  of  another  country,  more  than  of 
cue  of  his  own,  or  indeed  to  injure  him  in  the  smallest  degree  ? 
If  all  mankind  were  under  the  influence  of  these  principles,  would 
they  not  produce  universal  peace  ? 

2.  The  nature  of  Christianity  will  be  better  understood  in  all 
its  parts.  When  the  religion  of  Jesus  was  first  propagated  in  the 
world,  some  of  its  doctrines  and  precepts  were  peculiarly  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  sentiments  and  dispositions  both  of  the  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  and  hence  they  were  either  rejected  or  perverted. 
Against  these  corruptions  several  of  the  Epistles  of  the  New 
Testament  are  directly  levelled  ;  but  alas !  too  many  of  them  have 
retained  their  influence  to  the  present  day.  This  has  been  espe- 
cially the  case  with  respect  to  that  love  which  the  disciples  of 
Christ  ought  to  bear  to  the  whole  human  race  ;  and  particularly 
as  to  the  manner  in  which  Christians,  considered  in  tlieir  relation 
as  subjects  of  civil  society,  ought  to  demean  themselves  towards 
the  members  of  other  communities,  or  subjects  of  other  govern- 
ments. How  many  Christians,  who,  acting  as  individuals,  would 
be  filled  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  taking  away  the  life  of  a 
man  of  another  country,  can,  when  acting  as  members  of  the 
commonwealth,  put  to  death  men  of  other  lands  without  remorse, 
and  even  glory  in  tlie  deed !  The  obligation  of  the  followers  of 
Jesus  to  the  exercise  of  universal  love  and  good-will,  will  then  be 
both  clearly  understood  and  deeply  felt.  It  will  be  ascertained, 
that  individual  accountableness  runs  through  every  relation  in 
which  man  can  be  placed  ;  that  a  Christian  cannot  lend  his  influ- 
ence or  his  energies  to  execute  the  designs  of  caprice,  avarice, 
ambition  or  revenge  ;  and  that  when  mixed  with  a  hundred  tliou- 
sand  of  his  species,  he  is  no  more  justified  in  taking  away  the  life 
of  a  man  of  another  countr}'-  for  those  ends,  than  if  he  acted  by 
himself  alone. 

3.  In  consequence  of  such  a  change  of  views,  tlie  true  spirit 
of  the  Gospel  will  be  imbibed  by  every  Christian  individual ;  and 
the  number  of  these  individuals  will  be  so  great,  as  to  Qomprehend 
the  generality  of  mankind.  To  love  tlie  whole  family  of  Adam, 
and  to  manifest  this  love  to  them  in  every  relation,  both  public 
and  private,  will  be  the  predominant  temper  in  civil  society.  To 
abstain  from  doing  injury  to  men  of  odier  countries,  will  have 
equal  authority  over  his  conscience,  as  not  to  commit  adultery, 
and  not  to  be  guilty  of  sacrilege.  To  exercise  benevolence  towards 
all,  and  to  endeavor,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  all,  will  be  accounted  of  like  obligation  by  the  Chris- 
tian, as  loving  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  honoring  his  father 
and  his  mother. 

*  Rom.  xii.  19,  20,  ^1.    ' 


*  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  66 

4.  Those  evil  principles  which  now  reign  in  the  hearts  of  the 
mass  of  mankind,  and  which  are  the  causes  of  war,  shall  be  then 
destroyed.  "  From  whence  come  wars  and  figlitings  among  you  ? 
Come  they  not  hence,  even  from  your  lusts  that  war  in  your  mem- 
bers ?  "  *  But  what  are  those  lusts  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks  ? 
Are  they  a  peculiar  form  of  malignity  ?  Has  the  evil  spirit  first 
kindled  them  in  the  flames  of  hell,  hastened  with  them  t»  earth, 
and  thrust  them  still  burning  into  the  heart  of  one  whom  he  had 
before  marked  as  fit  for  his  purpose  on  account  of  his  singular 
wickedness  ?  No  such  thing.  They  are  only  the  ordinary  pas- 
sions of  the  human  heart — pride,  ambition,  caprice,  false  honor, 
avarice,  sensuality,  malice,  envy  and  hatred.  These  lusts  raging 
in  the  breast  of  a  mean  man,  form  a  drunkard,  an  adulterer,  a 
thief,  a  robber,  or  an  assassin  ;  when  they  operate  with  all  their 
strength  in  the  bosoms  of  the  rulers  of  the  "world,  they  produce 
war  and  slaughter.  Let  these  evil  passions  be  subdued,  and 
"  wars  will  cease  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth,  the  bow  will  be 
broken,  the  spear  cut  asunder,  and  the  chariot  burned  in  the  fire." 
That  such  will  be  the  case,  we  may  naturally  conclude,  when  it  is 
considered,  that  in  the  place  of  those  hateful  lusts,  love  to  God 
and  love  to  man,  meekness,  humility,  forgiveness  of  injuries,  and 
ardent  benevolence  to  every  thing  human,  will  fill  the  soul,  and 
bear  absolute  sway  over  all  its  powers. 

5.  These  principles  will  regulate  the  conduct  of  nations  in  all 
their  intercourse  with  each  other.  Multitudes  of  individuals  in 
their  transactions  with  their  fellows,  have  acted  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel ;  but  to  individuals  the  opera- 
tion of  them  has  been  confined.  No  nation  has  yet  administered 
a  system  of  goverrmient  according  to  Christian  principles,  or  pur- 
sued a  regular  succession  of  political  measures  nnder  tlie  influence 
of  the  spirit  of  Christian  benevolence.f 

An  objection  has  been  often  raised,  that  if  a  nation  were  to  act 
upon  these  principles,  and  refuse  to  go  to  war,  it  would  soon  be 
swallowed  up  by  other  nations.  In  answer  to  this,  let  the  follow- 
ing things  be  considered : 

1.    No  instance  of  this  pacific  spirit  in  a  community  has  yet 

*  James  iv.  1. 

\  We  may  quote  the  example  of  Pennsylvania,  which  settlement 
w^as  established,  and  long  conducted  on  Gospel  principles.  See 
Clarkson's  Life  of  Penn.  The  Edinbuigh  Review,  in  their  critique 
of  this  work,  say,  in  allusion  to  Penn's  celebrated  Treaty  with  the 
Indians,  "  Such  indeed  waa  the  spirit  in  which  the  negotiation  was 
entered  into,  and  the  corresponding  settlements  conducted,  that  for 
the  space  of  more  than  seventy  years,  and  so  long  indeed  as  the  Qua- 
kers retained  the  chief  power  in  the  government,  the  peace  and  amity 
which  had  been  thus  solemnly  promised  and  concluded,  never  was 
violated  ;  and  a  large,  though  solitary  example  afforded  of  the  facility 
with  which  they  who  are  really  sincere  and  friendlv  in  their  views, 
may  live  in  harmony  with  those  who  are  supposed  to  be  peculiarly 
fierce  and  faithless.'* 


57  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  5 

occurred  in  the  history  of  the  world  ;  no  proof  can  therefore  he 
brought  against  it  from  facts.  It  is  an  untried  system.  Long  has 
the  method  of  nation  injuring  nation  been  practised,  and  practised 
without  any  lasting  good  effect.  Let  men  noAv  try  the  Avay  of 
abstaining  from  injury,  and  of  conferring  benefits,  and  thus  heap 
coals  of  fire  upon  tlie  heads  of  their  enemies.  It  cannot  possibly 
succeed  worse  ;  but  it  may  have  unspeakably  happier  results. 

2.  A  person  of  a  humble,  pacific  spirit,  leads  the  most  quiet  life. 
Is  it  not  seen,  that  an  inoffensive  deportment,  especially  when 
united  to  uprightness  and  sanctity,  preserves  its  possessor  from 
many  quarrels  in  which  others  are  involved,  and  from  many  inju- 
ries which  the  quarrelsome  sustain  ?  But  why  should  it  not  be  so 
with  nations  too  ?  Like  causes  produce  like  effects  ;  and  if  na- 
tions were  as  exemplary  in  those  virtues  as  individuals  are,  as 
careful  to  avoid  giving  offence,  and  as  slow  in  taking  it,  the  num- 
ber of  tlieir  wars  would  be  astonishingly  diminished.  If  the  most 
peaceable  have  recourse  to  law  for  the  redress  of  grievances,  why 
could  not  a  council  of  modem  Amphictyons  be  established  in 
Europe  to  settle  national  disputes  ?  Surely  the  benign  spirit  of 
the  Gospel  should  long  ere  now  have  taught  Christendom  to  adopt 
an  institution  of  which  the  pagan  wisdom  of  ancient  Greece  set 
them  so  charming  and  instructive  an  example.* 

3.  The  hitherto  untried  exercise  of  active  benevolence  by  such 
a  nation,  would  tend  still  more  effectually  to  preserve  peace  and 
prevent  war.  There  have  been  individuals  who,  by  adding  to 
dignity  and  sanctity  of  personal  character  a  course  of  unwearied 
compassion  for  the  distressed,  have  risen  to  so  high  esteem,  that 
the  very  worst  of  men  have  felt  an  awe  of  reverence  even  for  their 
name,  and  been  afraid  not  only  to  do  them  an  injury,  but  even  to 
offer  them  an  insult.  Why  should  not  this  be  the  case  also  with 
communities  ?  It  would,  if  they  pursued  a  similar  conduct.  Great 
Britain  has  often  sent  fleets,  and  fire-ships,  and  bombs,  and  armed 
men  to  burn  and  destroy  cities,  and  put  the  defenders  to  death. 
The  natural  consequence  has  been,  tlat  multitudes  of  them  have 
been  slain ;  numerous  families  of  peaceable  inhabitants,  consisting 
of  fathers  and  mothers,  sons  and  daughters,  and  infants  at  the 
breast,  have  been  buried  under  the  ruins  of  their  dwellings,  or 
dashed  to  pieces  in  the  streets,  while  the  surrounding  country  has 
been  mournfully  desolated.    What  is  the  effect  of  this  warfare  7 

.Every  survivor's  heart  is  filled  with  hatred  of  the  invaders,  burns 
with  revenge,  and  transmits  the  same  spirit  as  an  inheritance  to 
his  children.  Let  us  suppose  that,  instead  of  such  an  armament, 
our  rulers  were  to  commission  ships  laden  with  corn,  and  clotlies, 
and  money,  at  only  half  the  amount  of  expense,  and  to  accompany 
the  ffift  witli  a  letter  to  the  government  of  a  neighboring  country 
to  this  effect :    "  Through  the  goodness  of  God,  we  have  had  an 

*  Here  is  the  germ  of  our  plan  for  a  Congress  of  Nations ;  a  sub- 
stitute for  war  contemplated  by  the  friends  of  peace  from  the  first. 
Bee  our  Tracts  and  Volumes  on  the  subject. — Am.  Ed. 


6  UNIVERSAL    rr.ACE.    ,  59 

abundant  harvest;  and  hearing  that  you  have  not,  we  send  a 
present  of  com  to  the  widows  and  the  fatlierless,  tlie  orjjhan,  the 
blind,  and  the  lame.  As  many  of  them  may  be  unprovided  with 
raiment  for  the  inclemency  of  winter,  accept  the  clothing  which 
will  be  delivered  to  you  by  our  fleet,  and  divide  among  those  who 
are  in  the  greatest  distress,  the  money  which  our  messengers  carry 
in  their  hands."  What  influence  would  such  conduct  bave  upon 
the  people  of  that  country  ?  Would  it  leave  any  sting  behind  in 
their  souls  ?  No.  It  would  conciliate  the  esteem  and  affection 
of  all.  Tell  them  after  this,  "Britain  wishes  to  injure  you."  No, 
they  would  say,  it  cannot  be  ;  it  is  impossible  tliat  the  people  of 
that  land  should  desire  to  do  us  harm.  Command  them  to  buckle 
on  their  armor,  and  wage  war  with  the  English.  They  would  an- 
swer, "  We  camiot  fight  them ;  the  weapons  would  drop  from  our 
hands ;  we  love  them  too  well  to  hurt  them ;  continue  in  peace." 
If  any  State  woiUd  act  in  this  way  to  its  neighbors,  it  would  have 
no  enemies. 

4.  A  nation  ^o  much  under  the  influence  of  the  Gospel  as  to 
feel  the  obligation  to  live  at  peace  with  its  neighbors,  would  dif- 
fuse, in  a  considerable  measure,  the  same  spirit  among  them.  No 
people  can  arrive  at  so  exalted  a  state  of  wisdom  and  goodness, 
witliout  making  a  powerful  impression  on  all  the  countries  around. 
By  diplomatic  characters,  tlie  principles  would  be  conveyed  into 
the  cabinets  of  the  rulers  of  these  countries,  propagated  in  conver- 
sation by  travellers  in  ten  thousand  respectable  domestic  groups, 
and,  above  all,  disseminated  in  books  tlirough  the  mass  of  the 
people  by  converts  to  the  cause.  The  natural  force  of  these  prin- 
ciples wUl  recommend  them  to  men  of  intelligence,  their  excel- 
lence to  philanthropists,  and  their  claims  of  submission  from  the 
authority  of  God,  to  all  who  regulate  their  conduct  by  the  Divine 
will.  Hence  there  would  be  a  progress  towards  the  spirit  of  peace 
in  every  land.  From  the  growth  of  the  pacific  principle  in  neigh- 
boring regions,  the  facility  of  liv-ing  at  peace  would  be  astonish- 
ingly increased ;  and  the  wise  and  happy  nation,  determined  to  act 
on  the  maxims  of  the  Gospel,  would  find  its  difiiculties  diminished 
from  year  to  year,  and  its  syslem  of  love  gaining  ground  from  day 
to  day !  O  that  our  country  would  set  the  example  to  the  world, 
and  commence  the  reign  of  peace  on  earth,  and  good- will  towards 
men  of  every  land  ! 

5.  To  all  these  considerations,  add  the  existence  and  nature  of 
divine  Providence.  Is  it  at  all  unreasonable  to  suppose,  that  a 
nation  uniformly  acting  according  to  the  pacific  principles  of  the 
Gospel,  would  experience  the  peculiar  protection  of  the  great 
Governor  of  the  world  ?  How  remarkable,  in  this  respect,  was  his 
care  over  Israel  of  old,  when  they  faithfully  kept  his  covenant  and 
his  testimonies !  During  the  time  of  the  theocracy,  it  was  only 
when  they  rebelled  against  God  tliat  they  felt  the  scourge  of  war, 
and  the  hostile  rage  of  the  people  around  them.  Is  it  irrational  to 
conceive,  that  if  any  one  country  were  to  be  regulated  in  all  its 
domestic  measures,  and  in  all  its  foreign  relations,  by  the  spirit  of 


69  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  7 

the  Gospel,  it  would  be  the  peculiar  charge  of  God,  and  enjoy  the 
smiles  of  his  approbation,  and  the  guardianship  of  his  providence, 
in  a  degree  hitherto  unknown  ?  Individuals  will  have  rewards  and 
punishments  dispensed  to  them  in  a  future  state ;  but  there  na- 
tions, as  such,  will  have  no  existence.  Is  it  improper  then  to 
argue,  that  virtuous  and  pious  nations  wiU  consequently  have  their 
reward  in  the  present  world  ?  And  what  is  more  reasonable  than 
to  conclude,  tliat  on  a  nation,  the  lover  and  advocate  of  peace,  the 
God  of  peace  will  bestow  the  blessings  of  peace  ? 

But  another  objection  is  frequently  brought  forward.  "  If  the 
love  of  peace,  producing  the  most  determined  enmity  to  war,  be 
the  spirit  of  Clmstianity,  and  tlie  very  essence  of  one  part  of  its 
principles,  how  comes  it  to  pass,  that  so  little  of  it  has  appeared  in 
the  dispositions,  the  deportment,  or  the  writings  of  persons  pro- 
fessing to  be  the  disciples  of  Christ  ?  "  The  following  considera- 
tions will,  I  hope,  furnish  a  satisfactory  answer  : 

Tliat  there  has  been,  in  tlie  minds  of  the  mass  of  persons  pro- 
fessing Christianity,  a  gross  ignorance  of  this  feature  of  the  Gos- 
pel, is  too  evident  to  be  denied  ;  and  we  can  sufficiently  account 
for  its  existence  from  a  variety  of  causes  operating  with  mighty 
force  upon  the  human  heart  in  its  deep  and  malevolent  depravity. 
To  the  spirit  of  peace,  the  prejudices  of  education  are  all  opposed. 
The  books  which  the  scholar  learns  to  read,  were  in  general  writ- 
ten under  the  influence  of  that  ferocious  depravity.  They  teach 
the  child  to  hate  or  despise  every  nation  but  his  own ;  they 
represent  war  as  the  tlieatre  of  glory  ;  they  tell  him  to  rejoice  in 
the  miseries  inflicted  on  the  people  of  another  country  by  those  of 
his  own  ;  and  they  render  him  passionately  ambitious  to  wear  the 
ensanguined  laurels  of  victory,  by  achieving  something  in  the. 
work  of  destruction  which  will  be  above  the  common  standard. 
Unhappy  youth !  who  receives  such  lessons  from  his  master  and 
his  books,  and  has  his  soul  so  early  contaminated,  and  his  princi- 
ples polluted  in  their  source !  Though  he  may  afterwards  become 
a  Christian,  how  seldom  are  these  unchristian  sentiments  eradi- 
cated from  his  breast ! 

The  spirit  of  the  men  of  the  world  has  likewise  had  considera- 
ble influence  in  preventing  the  growth  of  the  spirit  of  peace. 
Hitherto,  those  who  deny  themselves,  take  up  their  cross,  and  fol- 
low Christ,  have  been  few  in  number  compared  with  the  ungodly ; 
and  their  strength  has  not  lain  among  those  classes  in  society 
which,  pre-eminent  in  rank,  wealth,  and  literature,  sway  the  pub- 
lic mind  almost  without  control.  On  this  account,  not  only  the 
sentiments  of  Christians  have  had  little  weight,  but  they  them- 
selves have  sustained  no  small  injury  from  the  influence  of  those 
exalted  personages,  especially  in  reference  to  the  subject  before 
us.  This  I  consider  as  one  very  powerful  cause  of  tbe  unchris- 
tian spirit  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  in  respect  to  war. 

An  unhappy  misconception  of  the  Jewish  economy  has  also 
led  many  into  error  respecting  the  doctrine  of  Christianity  on  this 


8  UNIVERSAL   PEACE.  60 

point  The  state  of  that  people  was  singular.  The  land  of  Ca- 
naan was  their  inheritance  by  the  free  gift  of  Jehovah  himself; 
and  they  were  autliorized  by  liim  to  take  possession  by  extirpating 
the  nations  that  inliabited  it,  whose  iniquities  were  full.  After- 
wards, when  tliis  land,  the  heritage  of  the  Lord,  was  invaded, 
they  were  commanded  to  go  to  war,  and  expel  the  invaders  with 
the  edge  of  the  sword.  All  this  is  peculiar  to  that  people,  and 
has  no  parallel  in  tlie  history  of  mankind.  From  not  attending  to 
this  difference  of  circumstances,  many  Christians  have  conceived 
themselves  justified  in  being  the  advocates  of  war,  and  bound  to 
approve  the  wars  in  which  Sieir  country  was  engaged,  supposing 
theirs  was  like  Canaan  of  old,  God's  favorite  land.  Hence  they 
have  made  Jehovah  a  party  in  their  quarrels.  How  large  a  por- 
tion of  the  disciples  of  Cluist  have  been  hereby  led  astray  from  the 
pacific  spirit  of  the  Gospel !  Should  I  not  rather  say,  how  smaL 
is  tlie  number  of  Christians  who  have  not  been  drawn  away  from 
the  simplicity  of  Christ,  and  have  escaped  tlie  contagion  of  this 
Jewish  spirit  which  has  for  ages  overspread  and  defiled  the  Chris- 
tian Church. 

From  the  prevalence  of  a  pagan  spirit,  multitudes  that  profess 
Christiani{;y  have  lost  sight  of  me  peaceful  genius  of  the  Gospel, 
and  become  tlie  advocates  of  bloodshed  and  of  war.  The  ancient 
writers  of  Greece  and  Rome  are  tlie  idols  of  modem  times  in  most 
countries  in  Europe.  To  the  generous  youtli  in  the  middle  and 
superior  classes  of  society,  they  are  the  books  of  education  in  our 
public  schools.  And  in  what  veneration  are  they  held  I  From 
them,  among  other  evils,  tlie  youth  imbibe  a  pagan  morality  that, 
far  from  being  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be  entreated,  full  of 
mercy  and  good  fruits,  more  resembles  that  from  beneatli,  "  which 
is  earthly,  sensual,  devilish."  This  morality,  instead  of  inculcating 
humility,  meekness,  benevolence  and  peace, — those  essential  at- 
tributes of  tlie  Gospel, — is  selfish,  proud,  ambitious,  savage,  hates 
other  nations,  despises  the  mass  of  mankind,  and  seeks  distinction 
and  honor  on  the  field  of  battle.  With  such  sentiments  have  the 
greater  part  of  statesmen  and  nobles  come  from  the  school  and 
college  into  the  senate  and  the  cabinet  Such  is  the  morality 
most  commonly  found  in  the  speeches  of  public  men ;  and  the 
maxims  generally  recommended,  accord  much  more  with  the  sen- 
timents of  the, Grecian  and  Roman  classics,  than  with  the  spirit  of 
Christ  From  the  influence  of  such  a  morality,  millions  of  the  youth 
of  Europe  have  been  brought  to  an  untimely  grave.  But  instead 
of  a  paragraph,  a  volume  would  be  necessary  to  delineate  all  tlie 
evils  which  have  sprung  from  the  prevalence  of  a  pagem  morality 
in  the  higher  walks  of  life.  From  them  it  has  descended  to  the 
humbler  stations  of  society,  and  tlius  has  pervaded  the  general 
mass  of  the  community.  From  these  sources  have  flowed  the  ig- 
norance and  the  dislike  of  the  pacific  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and  the 
approbation  and  ardent  love  of  war,  which  have  so  much  diishonored 
the  Christian  name. 


61  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  0 

If  peace  be  the  doctrine  of  the  New  Testament,  how  much  is  it 
to  be  lamented,  that  multitudes  who  profess  to  be  Christians,  are 
opposed  to  it  both  in  sentiment  and  in  practice.  If  we  trace  wars 
to  their  origin,  the  apostle  James  tells  us  what  that  is ;  and  it  is  so 
bad,  that  it  ought  not  to  find  one  advocate  among  those  who  name 
the  name  of  Jesus.  But  alas !  ilie  generality  of  them  enter  as 
keenly  into  the  quarrels  of  nations,  as  any  of  the  men  of  the  world 
can.  Yet  surely  tlie  influence  of  Christian  principles,  the  feeling 
of  that  love  which  is  due  to  all  the  children  of  men,  and  the  awful 
thought  of  multitudes  of  immortal  souls  being  hurried  unprepared 
to  the  tribunal  of  God,  should  repress  this  spirit,  and  produce  an 
unquenchable  desire  of  peace  on  earth. 

But  what  is  still  more  to  be  bewailed,  ministers  of  Christ,  who 
ought  to  be  patterns  of  peace  and  love,  have  drunk  into  the  spirit 
of  war,  and  sought  to  make  their  God  a  party  in  every  contention 
in  which  their  country  happened  to  be  engaged.  They  pray  to 
him  for  victory  over  its  enemies  ;  they  give  him  thanks  when 
ten  or  twenty  thousand  of  their  foes  are  destroyed,  and  in  louder 
strains,  if  still  more  have  been  slain ;  and  in  their  discourses  to 
their  flock,  they  endeavor  to  inspirit  them  to  battle  and  to  blood- 
shed. How  displeasing  to  God  must  such  conduct  be!  How 
greatly  is  he  dishonoredby  it !  What  miseries  does  war  bring  on 
the  bodies,  and  especially  on  tlie  souls  of  men ;  and  these  not  pre- 
vented, but  encouraged,  by  persons  who  profess  to  love  God  with 
all  their  heart,  and  their  neighbor  as  themselves. 

We  have  reason  t§  bless  God,  that  the  number  of  those  Chris- 
tians who  perceive  and  feel  their  obligations  to  seek  the  peace  of 
mankind,  is  increasing  from  day  to  day.  In  the  first  ages  of  the 
Church,  there  were  some  who  understood  this  to  be  the  doctrine  of 
the  Gospel.  At  the  Reformation,  it  had  also  its  advocates ;  but 
they  unhappily  appended  to  it  other  sentiments  which  were  un- 
founded, and  thus  detracted  from  the  weight  of  tlieir  testimony  to 
peace.  Since  that  time,  none  have  been  so  faithful  witnesses  to 
the  pacific  spirit  of  tlie  religion  of  Jesus  as  the  Quakers  ;  and,  had 
all  the  rulers  of  Christendom  been  of  that  denomination  for  the  last 
hundred  and  fifty  years,  the  oceans  of  blood  shed  in  wars  would 
have  had  no  existence.  And  how  much  happier  a  countenance  would 
Europe  have  worn  than  she  now  wears !  For  more  than  a  century 
after  their  rise,  few  besides  themselves  adopted  their  peaceful 
creed  ;  but  of  late,  it  has  been  embraced  by  considerable  numbers 
amon^  every  sect ;  and  there  is  reason  to  conclude,  that  if  it  has 
made  converts  in  the  most  unfiivorable  circumstances,  its  progress 
will  be  rapid  when  the  state  of  tlie  world,  by  the  restoration  of 
peace,  shall  be  more  congenial  to  its  claims. 

All  the  disciples  of  Christ  should  imbibe  the  spirit  of  peace.  It 
displays  unspeakable  mercy  in  God,  that  while  individuals,  who 
have  been  made  partakers  of  his  grace,  maintain  sentiments  inju- 
rious to  his  honor,  and  the  happiness  of  man,  he  should  yet  com- 
passionately hold  communion  with  them.     But  these  unchristian 


10  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  6& 

opinions  certainly  prevent  them  from  enjoying  tliose  full  commu- 
nications which  God  Avould  otherwise  impart.  Let  these  old 
things  wliich  belong  to  the  old  man,  be  done  away,  and  all  tilings 
become  new.  Understand  your  calling,  brethren.  It  is  from 
darkness  into  marvellous  light,  that  ye  may  shine  as  lights  in  the 
world,  that  ye  may  do  no  harm  to  any  person  of  any  country,  but 
all  the  good  in  your  power  to  all  mankind.  This  was  the  spirit  of 
your  Master  and  of  his  religion ;  let  it  be  yours ;  and  let  the  ardor 
and  universality  of  your  benevolence  continually  increase. 

Above  all,  let  the  ministers  of  Christ  be  men  of  peace,  and  ad- 
vocates for  the  peace  of  the  world.  If  we  seek  to  inflame  the 
malevolent  passions  of  the  soul,  who  shall  be  found  to  cool  tliem  ? 
The  people  of  the  world  talk  of  glory  from  victory  and  conquest ; 
but  we  know  that  honor  and  happiness  can  arise  only  from  doing 
the  will  of  God,  and  living  in  subjection  to  him,  and  in  peace 
with  men.  Let  us  tell  the  world  so,  and  call  them  away  from  their 
angry  contests  for  mastery  to  dwell  in  love.  O  that  those  who 
preach  to  emperors  and  kings,  to  ministers  of  state,  to  senates 
and  to  parliaments,  would  lift  up  their  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and 
proclaim  to  them  from  the  great  JehovaJi,  and  from  Jesus  Christ 
who  shed  his  blood  to  save  sinners  from  -misery,  that  the  religion 
of  the  New  Testament  is  a  religion  of  peace ;  and  that  for  the 
blood  of  every  man  slain  in  war,  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  the  uni- 
verse will  demand  an  account  from  those  who  direct  the  affairs  of 
nations.  ^ 

The  co-operation  of  all  enlightened  Christians  to  diffuse  tliese 
benevolent  principles,  would  do  much  to  promote  the  peace  of  the 
world.  The  great  changes  in  the  moral  world,  which  are  preg- 
nant with  happiness  to  man,  are  to  be  brought  about  only  by  the 
most  vigorous  exertions  of  moral  principle  in  the  breast  of  the  wise 
and  the  good.  It  is  from  the  operation  of  such  principles,  that  the 
peaceful  state  of  the  world  is  to  be  produced ;  and  these  principles 
must  be  disseminated  by  those  in  whose  hearts  they  reign.  Few 
they  may  be  at  first;  but  the  number  will  continually  increase. 
Let  every  one  consider  what  he  can  do  to  promote  the  grand  work, 
and  let  him  do  it  without  delay.  He  that  has  nothing  else,  has  a 
tongue  to  plead  the  cause  of  peace  in  his  domestic  circle,  and  in- 
fuse his  sentiments  into  the  minds  of  his  neighbors  too,  his  ac- 
quaintances, and  those  he  meets  with  in  the  way.  Another  can 
write  clearly  and  forcibly  ;  let  his  letters  to  his  friends  bear  testi- 
mony to  his  zeal,  and  let  him  compose  tracts  to  enlighten  society 
on  the  subject  A  third  has  a  talent  for  poetry ;  let  him  in  tune- 
ful numbers  touch  the  reader's  heart  with  a  delineation  of  the  mis- 
eries of  war,  and  the  blessings  of  peace.  A  fourth  possesses 
wealth ;  let  him  give  his  money  to  purchase  these  publications, 
and  spread  them  far  and  wide.  A  fit>h  is  a  man  of  genius,  and 
could  in  a  fuller  and  more  elaborate  treatise  give  an  extensive  as 
well  as  an  impressive  view  of  tlie  doctrine  ;  let  him  consecrate  his 
powers  to  this  service  in  honor  of  the  Prince  of  Peace.     A  sixth 


63  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  ll' 

has  the  eloquence  of  Apollos,  and  can  stand  up  m  a  public  assem- 
bly, arrest  the  attention,  and  move  the  heart  of  every  hearer ;  let 
him  cry  aloud,  and  merit  the  title  of  the  orator  of  peace.  The 
ministers  of  Christ  from  the  pulpit,  (and  it  is  no  improper  theme  for 
that  halloAved  place,)  can  lead  their  audience  to  a  sight  of  the 
sources  of  wars, — tliose  lusts  which  war  in  our  members, — unveil 
their  deformity,  and  display  the  charming- beauties  of  peace  on 
earth,  and  good-will  to  men. 

To  collect  the  force  of  all  these  into  one  centre  from  which  the 
rays  of  light  and  heat  may  be  emitted  in  every  direction  with  more 
powerful  energy,  is  a  thing  of  high  importance.  This  effect  ai> 
association  will  produce ;  and  as  we  live  in  an  age  of  societies  to 
combine  individual  efforts  for  public  benefit,  why  should  not  one 
be  formed  for  promoting  peace  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  ?  * 
The  subject,  every  one  will  allow,  merits  all  the  attention  that  can 
be  given  it.  O  that  God  would  call  forth  some  wise,  pious,  en- 
lightened, ardent  philanthropist,  who  shall  form  tliis  determination 
in  his  heart,  and  carry  it  into  execution ! — "To  convince  mankind 
that  Christianity  forbids  war,  to  banish  tlie  idea  of  its  lawfulness 
from  their  creed,  and  the  love  of  its  practice  from  their  heai-ts, 
and  to  make  all  men  seek  peace  witli  tJieir  whole  soul,  and  pursue 
it  with  all  their  might,  till  it  establish  an  universal  reign  over  hu- 
man nature,  shall  be  the  grand  object  of  my  existence  on  earth." 
And  how  exalted  an  object  of  benevolence  would  he  choose : 
The  suffering  of  the  tenants  of  a  prison-house,  in  comparison  with 
the  miseries  of  war,  is  but  as  the  anguish  of  a  single  family  pin- 
ing away  and  dying  for  want,  when  placed  by  the  side  of  a  whole 
populous  province  desolated,  by  famine  which  has  consumed  all  its 
inhabitants.  Even  the  more  extensive  calamities  of  the  African 
slave  trade,  drawn  up  in  array  before  the  ravages,  and  tortures, 
and  horrors  of  war,  are  hut  like  the  hill  Mizar  compared  to  Leba- 
non. What  blessings  will  not  descend  on  the  man  who  devotea 
himself  to  the  destruction  of  this  monstrous  foe  of  human  happi- 
ness ! 

The  influence  of  the  female  sex  is  universally  acknowledged 
and  felt.  I  want  that  influence  to  diffuse  peace  and  love  over  the 
face  of  the  earth.  I  scarcely  know  how  to  address  myself  to  re- 
spectable matrons  who,  after  nursing  their  sons  with  the  tenderest 
affection,  send  them  away  to  tlie  work  of  desolation,  and  rejoice  at 
tlieir  success,  when  they  make  women  like  yourselves  widows, 
and  their  children  fatherless,  or  overwhelm  an  aged  father  and 
mother  with  sorrow,  because  their  boy  perished  in  the  field  by 
your  young  hero's  sword ;  and  then  they  praise  God  for  what  their 
sons  have  done  !  A  thousand  times  rather  would  I  that  God  had 
said  concerning  me,  "  write  this  man  childless,"  than  that  a  son 
of  mine  had  ever  imbrued  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  man  his 
brother. 

*  This  was  written  before  the  formation  of  Peace  Societies. — 
Am.  Ed. 


12  UNIVERSAL    PEACE.  64 

A  grreater  number  of  celebrated  female  writers  than  the  present, 
no  age  has  produced.  But  what  grave  essay  in  prose,  or  what 
poetic  effusion  of  yours,  do  we  find  to  bring  war  into  disgrace,  and 
to  awaken  the  horror  of  every  feeling  heart  against  its  miseries 
and  its  crimes  ?  In  whicJi  of  your  works  have  you  come  forth  as 
the  advocates  of  humanity,  and  tiiO  champions  of  peace  ?  Tell  me, 
that  I  may  withdraw  tlie  censure.  You  are  silent ;  you  blush  at 
this  reproach,  and  well  you  may  :  —  tliey  may  justly  be  the  most 
burning  blushes  that  ever  reddened  the  female  cheek.  Had  you 
employed  your  tender  eloquence  in  the  cause  of  humanity  and 
peace,  ten  thousands  of  ingenuous  youths,  whose  hearts'  blood  was 
poured  out  on  the  ground,  and  whose  faces  were  bloodless  and 
pale  in  death,  as  they  lay  in  the  open  field,  had  been  spared,  and 
now  adorning  both  the  domestic  circle  and  society  with  their 
presence  and  their  affection.  To  speak  thus  grieves  me  to  the 
heart ;  but  I  am  compelled  to  do  it,  for  there  are  seasons  when 
truth  must  be  spoken,  however  painful  it  may  be  both  to  the  speaker 
and  the  auditor.  You  blush  for  your  neglect ;  but  I  must  have 
more  than  bluslies ;  I  want  fruits  meet  for  repentance.  My  earnest 
wish  is  to  see  you  become  the  determined  foes  of  war,  and  the 
most  ardent  friends  of  peace.  I  long  to  hear  you  plead  with  all 
your  souls  (and  who  can  plead  like  you  ?)  for  the  harmony  of  the 
world,  and  peace  among  tlie  nations.  If  every  intelligent,  pious 
and  benevolent  female  would  engage  heart  and  hand  in  the  work, 
the  success  would  be  great  beyond  conception. 

Oh !  if  all  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  would  unite  in  this  labor 
of  love,  and  work  of  peace,  what  wonders  Avould  be  done  !  What 
an  amazing  change  for  the  better  would  be  produced !  Shall 
I  bring  arguments  to  convince,  or  motives  to  induce  you  to 
lifl  up  your  voice  for  the  peace  of  the  world  ?  I  will  not  bring 
one.  If  you  refuse  your  aid,  "go,  strip  yourselves  of  the  robes  of 
office,  depart  and  officiate  at  the  altars  of  some  savage  idol  who 
delights  in  slaughter  and  blood."  But  why  do  I  speak  thus  ? 
Surely  none  »f  you,  my  brethren,  will  refuse  to  come  fortli  to  the 
help  of  the  Lord  against  so  mighty  a  foe  of  human  happiness,  but 
will  each  endeavor  to  excel  every  otlier  in  maintaining  the  honor 
of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  strive  that  there  may  not  be  an  indi- 
vidual in  his  flock  who  has  not  imbibed  the  principles  of  peace. 
Such  a  union  of  efforts  will,  through  the  divine  blessing,  infallibly 
gain  the  day;  and  in  prayer  for  this  blessing,  let  every  heart  be 
continually  lifled  up  to  the  God  of  all  grace ! 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


\ 


No.  VIII. 

MILITARY    DISCIPLNE. 


From  a  system  like  that  of  war,  we  can  expect  nothing  but 
cruelty  in  the  treatment  of  its  agents  as  well  as  its  victims.  Nei- 
ther kindness  nor  lenity  is  compatible  with  its  spirit,  its  principles 
or  its  aims.  It  is  the  law  of  violence  dictated  by  malice,  and 
executed  by  revenge  ;  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  its  ope- 
rations, whether  in  a  time  of  war  or  of  peace,  would  fill  a  benevo- 
lent mind  with  disgust  and  horror.  I  shall  not  describe  in  detail 
the  different  kinds  of  punishment,  but  only  give  from  eye-witnesses 
a  general  view  of  their  barbarous  and  brutal  severity. 

Such  testimony,  like  the  rum-seller  testifying  against  his  own 
business,  is  given  with  reluctance.  "  But  for  my  desire,"  says  one 
of  these  witnesses,*  "  to  present  the  reader  with  a  true  exhibition 
of  life  on  board  a  British  man-of-war,  it  would  bo  my  choice  to 
suppress  tliese  disgusting  details  of  cruelty  in  punishment.  This, 
however,  is  impossible ;  I  must  either  draw  a  filse  picture,  or  de- 
scribe them," 

"  Our  short  passage  from  Gravesend  to  Spithead  gave  opportu- 
nity for  one  of  those  occurrences  which  are  a  disgrace  to  the  naval 
service  of  any  nation — a  flogging.  A  poor  fellow  had  fallen  into 
the  very^ailor-like  offence  of  getting  drunk.  For  this  the  captain 
sentenced  him  to  the  punishment  of  four  dozen  lashes.  He  was  first 
placed  in  {ro7is  all  night ;  and  the  irons  used  for  this  purpose  were 
shackles  fitting  round  the  ankles,  through  the  ends  of  which  was 
passed  an  iron  bar  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  length,  with  a  pad- 
lock at  the  end  of  the  bar  to  hold  the  prisoner  securely.  Thus 
placed  in  'duress  vile,'  he  was  guarded  by  a  marine  until  the  cap- 
tain bade  the  first  lieutenant  prepare  tiie  hands  to  witness  the  pun- 
ishment. Upon  this,  the  lieutenant  transmitted  the  order  to  the 
master  at  arms.  He  then  ordered  the  gTating  or  hatch  full  of  square 
holes,  to  be  rigged  ;  and  it  v/as  placed  accordingly  between  the 
main  and  spar  decks,  not  far  from  the  mainmast, 

"  While  these  preparations  were  going  on,  the  ofiicers  were 
dressing  themselves  in  full  uniform,  and  arming  themselves  with 
their  dirks ;  and  the  prisoner's  messmates  carried  him  his  best 
clothes,  to  make  him  appear  in  as  decent  a  manner  as  possible,  in 
the  hope  of  thus  moving  the  feelings  of  the  captain  favorably  to- 
wards tlie  prisoner.  This  done,  the  hoarse,  dreaded  cry  of  '  All 
hands  ahoy  to  witness  punishment ! '  from  the  lips  of  the  boat- 
swain, peals  along  the  ship  as  mournfully  as  the  notes  of  a  funeral 
knell.  At  tliis  signal  the  officers  muster  on  the  spar  deck,  the 
men  on  the  main  deck.    Next  came  tlie  prisoner ;  guarded  by  a 

"  Samuel  Leech,  in  his  Thirty  Years  from  Home. 
P.  T.       NO.  VIII. 


2  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  66 

marine  on  one  side,  and  the  master  at  arms  on  the  other,  he  "vvas 
marched  up  to  the  grating.  His  back  was  made  bare,  and  his 
eliirt  laid  loosely  upon  liis  back,  when  the  two  quarter-masters  pro- 
ceeded to  seize  him  up ;  that  is,  they  tied  his  hands  and  feet  with 
spun-yams,  called  the  seizings,  to  the  grating.  The  boatswain's 
mates,  whose  office  it  is  to  flog  on  board  a  man-of-war,  stood 
ready  with  their  dreadful  weapon  of  punishment,  the  cat-o'-nine- 
tails. This  instrument  of  torture  was  composed  of  nine  cords,  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  round,  and  about  two  feet  long,  the  ends  whipt 
with  fine  twine.  To  these  cords  was  affixed  a  stock,  two  feet  in 
length,  covered  with  red  baize.  The  reader  may  be  sure  that  it 
is  a  most  formidable  instrument  in  the  hands  of  a  strong,  skilful 
man.  Indeed,  any  man  who  should  whip  his  horse  with  it,  would 
commit  an  outrage  on  humanity,  which  the  moral  feeling  of  any 
community  would  not  tolerate ;  he  would  be  prosecuted  tor  cruel- 
ty ;  yet  it  is  used  to  whip  me>-  on  board  ships  of  war ! 

"  The  boatswain's  mate  is  ready,  with  coat  off,  and  whip  in 
hand.  The  captain  gives  the  word.  Carefully  spreading  the  cords 
with  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  the  executioner  throws  the  cat 
over  his  right  shoulder ;  it  is  brought  down  upon  the  now  uncov- 
ered shoulders  of  the  bian.  His  flesh  creeps ;  it  reddeijs  as  if 
blushing  at  the  indignity  ;  the  sufferer  groans ;  lash  follows  lash, 
until  the  first  mate,  wearied  with  the  cruel  employment,  gives 
place  to  a  second.  Now  two  dozen  of  these  dreadful  lashes  have 
been  inflicted  ;  tlie  lacerated  back  looks  inhuman ;  it  resembles 
roasted  meat  burnt  nearly  black  before  a  scorching  fire ;  yet  still 
the  lashes  fall ;  the  captain  continues  merciless.  Vain  are  the 
cries  and  prayers  of  the  wretched  man.  '  I  would  not  forgive  the 
Savior,'  was  the  blasphemous  reply  of  one  of  these  naval  demi- 
gods, or  rather  demi-fiends,  to  a  plea  for  mercy.  The  executioners 
keep  on.  Four  dozen  strokes  have  cut  up  his  flesh,  and  robbed 
him  of  all  self-respect ;  there  he  hangs,  a  pitied,  self-despised, 
groaning,  bleeding  wretch  ;  and  now  the  captain  cries,  forbear ! 
His  shirt  is  thrown  over  his  shoulders  ;  the  seizings  are  loosed  ; 
he  is  led  away,  staining  his  path  with  red  drops  of  blood ;  and  the 
hands,  '  piped  down '  by  the  boatswain,  sullenly  return  to  their 
duties.  Such  was  the  scene  witnessed  on  board  the  Macedonian, 
on  the  passage  from  London  to  Spithead ;  and  such,  substantially, 
is  every  punishment  scene  at  sea,  only  carried  sometimes  to  a 
greater  length  of  severity." 

"It  is  generally  understood,"  says  Rev.  J.  C.  Webster  in  his 
account  of  his  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  in  one  of  our  war-ships,* 
"  that  the  word  of  a  commanding  officer  is  law.  He  can  punish 
at  will ;  his  autliority  is  well  mgh  absolute ;  for  the  process  of 
redress  for  a  common  sailor,  under  any  ordinary  circumstances, 
by  an  appeal  to  a  court-martial,  would  be  so  tardy  and  dubious,  as 
hardly  to  be  considered  a  qualification  of  the  statement  that  the 
system  is  one  of  unlimited  despotism.    From  the  time  Jack  signs 

•  Advocate  of  Peace,  vol.  iv.  p.  48. 


67  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  3 

his  shipping  papers,  during  a  three  or  four  years'  Cruise,  till  he  is 
discharged,  he  virtually  surrenders  his  own  free  agency.  He  is 
kept  like  a  criminal  within  tlie  walls  of  a  prison  during  most  of 
the  time ;  and  I  have  known  it  to  be  with  tlie  utmost  difficulty  that 
a  boy  could  get  liberty  to  go  on  shore  in  a  foreign  land,  and  see  a 
mother  or  sister  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  years.  No  confidence 
is  placed  in  Jack,  and  so  none  is  begotten  in  him  towards  his 
officers. 

"  The  summary  and  barbarous  practice  of  flogging  upon  the 
bare  back  is  the  means  used  to  secure  obedience  to  the  laws.  The 
principal  offences  for  which  this  penalty  is  incurred  are,  want  of 
cleanliness,  intoxication,  stealing,  neglecting  the  watch,  desertion, 
and  disobedience  of  a  superior  officer.  And  sometimes  Jack  suflers 
deservedly,  and  sometimes  he  does  not ;  for  it  requires  but  little 
ingenuity  in  a  superior  officer  to  get  a  man  flogged  for  the  satis- 
faction of  a  mere  personal  grudge.  When  I  went  upon  deck  be- 
fore breakfast,  I  seldom  failed  to  see  some  poor  felloAv  smarting 
under  the  boatswain's  lash  at  the  gangway.  The  instrument  used 
is  a  handle  twelve  inches  long,  with  nine  thongs  attached  to  one 
end.  When  we  lay  at  Portsmouth,  Eng.,  several  men  sought  an 
opportunity  to  desert  the  ship ;  most  of  them  were  retalcen,  and  put 
in  irons  until  we  had  gone  to  sea  again.  On  the  morning  of  the 
twelfth  of  July,  I  heard  the  order  throughout  the  ship  of  '  all 
hands  to  witness  punishment.'  I  had  no  disposition  to '  witness 
the  barbarous  process ;  but  even  in  the  cock-pit  I  was  not  out  of 
tlie  reach  of  the  sound  of  the  lash,  and  the  cries  of  the  wretched 
suflerers.  Seven  men  received  three  dozen  lashes  each,  and  one, 
who  proved  to  be  a  ring-leader  of  the  rest,  four  dozen  " 

"  One  night,"  says  McNally,*  "  it  fell  calm ;  and  the  officer  of 
the  deck  ordered  the  forecastle  men  and  foretop  men  to  man  the 
fore  clew  garnets  and  buntlines,  and  stand  by  to  haul  up  the  fore- 
sail. The  word  was  given,  and  the  sail  hauled  up,  but  not  so 
quickly  as  he  wished  it  to  be.  The  yards  were  braced  sharp  up ; 
and,  as  there  was  no  wind,  the  fore  tack  and  sheet  blocks  caught 
in  tlie  lee  fore  rigging,  on  the  ratlines,  and  a  man  had  to  clear 
them.  Nothing,  however,  would  be  taken  as  an  excuse ;  and  he 
flogged  the  whole  watch  of  the  forecastle  and  foretop  men,  giving 
them  one  dozen  each,  and  ordered  tliem  forward  to  set  the  sail 
again.  It  was  set,  and  they  were  ordered  to  man  the  clew  garnets 
and  buntlines,  to  haul  it  up  again.  The  lee  clew  caught  in  the 
rigging  as  before,  and  he  flogged  them  all  again.  Once  more  the 
sail  was  set,  and  hauled  up  with  the  same  results  ;  in  fact,  it  was 
a  moral  impossibility  to  run  the  lee  clew  right  up,  as  the  heavy 
blocks  would  catch  in  the  rigging ;  and  the  men  were  flogged 
three  times  in  less  than  one  hour.  There  were  eleven  in  the  fore- 
top,  and  twelve  on  the  forecastle,  making  twenty-three  men,  pun- 
ished with  three  dozen  each,  for  no  offence  under  heaven. 

^  Evils  and  Muses  in  the  JVaval  Service^  &c.,  as   quoted  in  the' 
Advocate  of  Peace,  vol.  iii.  p.  188  et  seq. 


4  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  68 

"  During  the  three  years'  cruise  of  the  Fairfield,  I  do  not 
believe  a  ^single  day  elapecd  that  punishment  by  flogging  did 
not  take  place.  At  that  time  there  was  a  custom  in  the  service, 
directly  contrary  to  law,  whereby  any  officer  of  the  deck  could  in- 
flict punishment  This  was  not  with  the  cat,  as  the  law  directs, 
but  with  what  is  termed  a  colt,  a  piece  of  eighteen-thread  ratline, 
or  one-inch  rope,  which  generally  has  one  or  two  hard  twine  whip- 
pings upon  each  end.  Twelve  lashes  with  this,  over  a  thin  frock 
or  shirt,  gave  greater  pain,  and  bruised  the  flesh  more  tlian  the 
cat  would  have  done ;  and  it  was  with  tliis  instrument  that  the 
deck  officers  of  the  Fairfield  punished  the  men,  and  there  was  no 
limit  to  the  number  of  lashes,  but  just  as  many  as, it  might  please 
the  officer  to  order — sometimes  one  dozen,  and  at  other  times 
three.  Such  punishment  frequently  brought  tlie  blood  through 
the  shirt,  and  often  left  the  flesh  black  for  two  or  three  weeks,  and 
then  yellow  for  as  many  more,  before  it  healed  perfectly. 

"  Never  let  citizens  in  the  Northern  States  rail  at  slavery,  or 
the  punishment  inflicted  on  slaves,  or  say  tliat  it  is  wrong,  so  long 
as  their  own  sons,  their  own  flesh  and  blood,  their  own  seamen, 
their  own  free  citizens,  and  the  men  to  whom  they  look  for  protec- 
tion in  case  of  war,  are  daily  subject  to  tlie  same  treatment  as  the 
southern  slaves.  The  late  John  Randolph  openly  declared  in  tlie 
legislative  halls  of  Congress,  that  he  had  witnessed,  in  a  few 
months,  more  flogging  on  board  the  man-of-war  that  carried  him  to 
Russia,  tlian  had  taken  place  during  ten  years  on  his  plantation, 
where  there  were  five  hundred  slaves. 

"  I  was  on  board  the  Lexington  from  1821  to  1824.  The  cap- 
tain was  a  kind  man,  but  often  very  passionate,  and,  when  so,  very 
unjust  He  allowed  no  punishment  on  board  except  what  he  in- 
flicted himself;  but  he  sometimes  went  far  beyond  the  law  in 
punishing  petty  ofiences.  When  we  were  at  the  Falkland  Islands, 
the  men  were  put  on  allowance  in  consequence  of  tlie  provisions 
on  board  being  likely  to  run  short.  Having  gone  from  a  warm 
climate  to  a  cold  one,  tlieir  appetites  increased,  and  made  the 
allowance  too  little  ;  and  this  created  a  ferment  among  the  crew. 
One  day  they  had  been  called  aft;,  and  a  vehement  lecture  read 
them  by  the  captain ;  tliey  were  sent  forward,  and  one  man  made 
some  remark,  wliich  was  overheard  by  the  lieutenant  who  imme- 
diately reported  it  to  the  captain.  All  hands  were  instantly  called 
to  witness  punishment  The  marines  were  turned  out  with  fixed 
bayonets,  and  the  captain  brought  a  pair  of  ship's  pistols  from  the 
cabin,  loaded  with  ball  cartridges,  which  he  laid  upon  the  capstan. 
The  man  was  then  ordered  to  strip,  which  he  did  without  a  mur- 
mur, as  he  knew  that  to  attempt  to  appease  the  captain,  would  be 
like  trying  to  stop  tlie  sea  from  raging.  He  was  seized  up,  and 
received  twenty-four  lashes  without  a  stop.  The  weather  was 
extremely  cold,  being  in  so  high  a  latitude  ;  but  the  man  bore  his 
punishment  in  silence  ;  his  lips  writhed,  but  no  complaint  escaped 
nim.  He  was  taken  down,  and  warned  not  to  grumble  about  pro- 
visions again,  under  penalty  of  receiving  twice  the  number  of 


69  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  O 

lashes.  He  spoke  not ;  but  those  who  looked  upon  his  calmness, 
knew  that  it  was  the  calmness  of  resolution.  Had  Captain  D. 
lived  until  that  man  returned  to  the  United  States,  it  would  have 
been  bad  for  both  of  them.  This  punishment  was  inflicted  directly 
contrary  to  law,  for  it  declares  that  a  captain  shall  punish  only  a 
private,  and  this  man  was  a  petty  officer ;  he  shall  not  punish  be- 
yond twelve  lashes,  and  yet  he  inflicted  twenty-four. 

"  About  the  same  time  a  more  severe  punishment  took  place. 
Wm.  Mclntire,  a  tailor,  who  was  employed  by  the  captain  in  liis 
cabin,  had  persuaded  one  of  the  cabin  boys  to  give  him  some  of  the 
captain's  brandy,  which  the  ste-ward  missed,  and  reported.  The 
man  was  not  drunk  ;  but  he  had  drank  the  brandy,  and  for  so  do- 
ing- was  brought  to  the  gangway,  and  punished  with  three  dozen 
lashes  upon  the  bare  back.  It  was  his  first  and  last  flogging  ;  he 
did  not  long  survive  it ;  it  sank  deep  into  his  heart,  and  he  never 
more  held  up  his  head.  He  sleeps  the  sleep  of  death  on  the  bleak 
barren  Falkland  Islands,  far  from  his  home  and  friends.  I  dare 
the  medical  men  that  were  on  board  tliat  ship,  to  say  that  he  did 
not  die  in  consequence  of  the  flogging  he  received,  the  victim  of 
cruelty  and  oppression." 

"  The  worst  species  of  punishment,"  says  Leech,  "  is  Jlogging 
through  thejleet  This  is  never  inflicted  without  due  trial  and  sen- 
tence by  a  court-martial,  for  some  aggravated  offence.  After  the 
oflfender  is  thus  sentenced,  and  the  day  arrives  appointed  by  his 
judges  for  its  execution,  the  unhappy  wretch  is  conducted  into 
the  ship's  launch — a  large  boat — which  has  been  previously  rig- 
ged up  witii  poles  and  grating,  to  which  he  is  seized  up ;  he  is  at- 
tended by  the  ship's  surgeon,  whose  duty  it  is  to  decide  when  the 
power  of  nature's  endurance  has  been  taxed  to  its  utmost.  A 
boat  from  every  ship  in  the  fleet  is  also  present,  each  carrying  one 
or  two  officers  and  two  marines  fully  armed.  These  boats  are 
connected  by  tow  lines  to  the  launch. 

"  These  preparations  made,  the  crew  of  the  victim's  ship  are 
ordered  to  man  the  rigging,  while  the  boatswain  commences  the 
tragedy.  When  he  his  administered  one,  two  or  three  dozen 
lashes,  according  to  the  number  of  ships  in  the  fleet,  the  prisoner's 
shirt  is  thrown  over  his  gory  back ;  the  boatswain  returns  on  board, 
the  hands  are  piped  down,  the  drummer  beats  a  mournful  melody, 
called  the  rogue's  march,  and  the  melancholy  procession  moves 
on.  Arriving  at  the  side  of  another  ship,  the  brutal  scene  is  re- 
peated, until  every  crew  in  the  fleet  has  witnessed  it,  and  from 
one  to  three  hundred  lashes  have  lacerated  the  back  of  the  broken- 
spirited  tar  to  a  bleeding  pulp.  He  is  then  placed  under  the  sur- 
geon's care,  to  be  fitted  for  duty — a  ruined  man — broken  in  spirit ! 
all  sense  of  self-respect  gone,  forever  gone!  If  he  survive,  it  is 
only  to  be  like  his  own  brave  bark,  when  winds  and  waves  con- 
spire to  dash  her  on  the  pitiless  strand,  a  wretched,  .hopeless 
wreck ;  a  living,  walking  shadow  of  his  former  self. 

"  No  plea  of  necessity  can  be  successfully  urged  in  behalf  of 
whipping  men ;  for,  if  subordination  is  expected  to  follow  such 


6  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE,  70 

terrible  examples,  I  know,  from  my  acquaintance  with  the  sufferers 
themselves,  that  the  expectation  is  vain.  One  of  two  results 
always  follows — the  victim  either  lives  on,  a  lone,  dark-minded, 
broken-spirited  man,  despising  liimself,  and  hating  every  one, 
because  he  thinks  every  one  hates  him  ;  or  he  lives  with  one  fear- 
ful, unyielding  purpose,  a  purpose  on  which  he  feeds  and  nourishes 
his  galled  mind,  as  food  affords  life  and  energy  to  his  physical 
constitution.  That  purpose  is  revenge.  I  have  heard  them 
swear — and  Uie  wild  flashing  eye,  the  darkly  frowning  brow,  told 
how  finn  was  the  intent — that  if  ever  they  should  be  in  battle,  they 
would  shoot  their  officers.  I  have  seen  them  rejoice  over  the  mis- 
fortunes of  their  persecutors,  but  more  especially  at  their  death. 
That  it  has  frequently  led  to  mutiny,  is  well  verified.  I  have 
known  such  severity  to  result  in  actual  murder.  While  we  lay 
at  Lisbon,  a  sergeant  of  marines,  on  board  a  seventy-four,  made 
himself  obnoxious  by  repeated  acts  of  tyranny.  Two  marines  de- 
tennined  upon  his  deatli.  One  night,  unperceived  by  any,  they 
seized  him,  hurried  him  to  the  gangway,  and  pitched  him  over- 
board. The  tide  was  running  strong ;  and  the  man  was  drowned ! 
But  for  themselves,  his  fate  would  have  remained  a  secret  until 
tlie  day  of  judgment ;  it  was  discovered  by  an  officer,  who  ac- 
cidentally overheard  them  congratulating  each  other  on  their 
achievement  He  betrayed  them.  A  court-martial  sentenced 
them.  They  Avere  placed  on  deck  with  halters  on  their  necks. 
Two  guns  were  fired ;  and  when  the  smoke  cleared  away,  two  men 
were  seen  dangling  from  the  fore-yard-arm. 

"  The  case  of  our  ship's  drummer  will  illustrate  the  hopelessness 
of  our  situation.  Being  seized  up  for  some  petty  offence,  he  demand- 
ed, what  no  captain  can  refuse,  to  be  tried  by  a  court-martial,  in 
the  hope,  probably,  of  escaping  altogether.  The  officers  laughed 
among  each  other ;  and  when,  a  few  days  afterwards,  the  poor, 
affrighted  man  offered  to  withdraw  the  demand,  and  take  six  dozen 
lashes,  they  coolly  remarked,  '  The  drummer  is  sick  of  his  bar- 
gain.' He  would  have  been  a  wiser  man,  had  he  never  made  it ; 
for  the  court-martial  sentenced  him  to  receive  two  hundred  lashes 
tlirough  the  fleet — a  punishment  ostensibly  for  his  first  offence,  but 
really  for  his  insolence  (?)  in  demanding  a  trial  by  court-martial. 
Such  was  the  administration  of  justice  (?)  on  board  the  Macedo- 
nian." 

The  men  on  board  a  man-of-war  are  continually  exposed  to 
such  treatment  "  With  my  return  to  active  service  after  my 
sickness,"  says  Leech,  "  came  my  exposure  to  hardships,  and,  what 
I  dreaded  still  more,  to  punishment  Some  of  the  boys  Mere  to 
be  punished  on  the  main  deck  ;  the  rest  were  ordered  forward  to 
witrtess  it,  as  usual.  Being  so  far  aft  that  I  could  not  hear  tlie 
summons,  I  remained,  as  a  matter  of  course,  at  my  post  The 
hawk-eye  of  tlie  lieutenant  missed  me,  and  in  a  rage  he  ordered 
me  to  be  sent  for  to  receive  a  flogging  for  my  absenge.  Excuse 
was  in  vain  ;  for  such  was  the  fiendish  temper  of  this  brutal  offi- 
cer, he  only  wanted  the  shadow  of  a  reason  for  dragging  the  poor 


71  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  7 

lielpless  boys  of  liis  charge  to  the  grating.  While  I  stood  m  trem- 
bling expectation  of  being  degraded  by  the  hated  cat,  a  summons 
from  tlie  captain  providentially  called  off  our  brave  boy-flogger, 
and  I  escaped.  The  offence  was  never  mentioned  afterwards.- 
The  reader  can  easily  perceive  how  such  a  constant  exposure  to 
tlie  lash  must  embitter  a  seaman's  life." 

Mark  the  severity  visited  upon  the  slightest  offences.  "  A  mid- 
shipman named  Gale,  a  most  rascally,  unprincipled  fellow,  found 
his  pocket  handkerchief  in  possession  of  one  of  the  crew.  He 
charged  the  man  with  stealing  it.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  poor 
wretch  asserted  that  he  found  it  under  his  haimnock.  He  was 
reported  as  a  tliief ;  a  court-martial  sat  upon  him,  and  returned 
the  shamefully  disproportionate  sentence  of  three  hundred  lashes 
through  the  fleet,  and  one  year's  imprisonment !  Nor  was  that 
sentence  a  dead  letter ;  the  unhappy  man  endured  it  to  the  letter. 
Fifty  were  laid  on  alongside  of  the  Macedonian,  in  conformity 
witli  a  common  practice  of  inflicting  the  most  strokes  at  the  first 
ship,  in  order  that  the  gory  back  of  the  criminal  may  strike  the 
more  terror  into  the  crews  of  the  other  ships.  This  poor  tortured 
man  bore  two  hundred  and  twenty,  and  was  pronounced  by  the 
attending  surgeon  unfit  to  receive  the  rest.  Galled,  bruised,  and 
agonized  as  he  was,  he  besought  him  to  suffer  the  infliction  of  the 
remaining  eighty,  that  he  might  not  be  called  to  pass  through  the 
degrading  scene  again ;  but  this  prayer  was  denied !  He  was 
brought  on  board,  and  when  his  wounds  were  healed,  tlie  captain, 
Shylock-like,  determined  to  have  the  whole  pound  of  flesh,  or- 
dered him  to  receive  the  remainder ! " 

"  I  liave  heard,"  says  the  late  William  Ladd,  "  the  captain  of  a 
British  man-of-war  order  one  of  his  men  to  receive  a  dozen  lashes 
for  having  on  blue  trowsers.  Sailors  are  subject  every  moment  of 
their  lives,  not  only  to  a  torrent  of  imprecations  and  curses,  but  to 
the  boatswain's  cat-o'-nine-tails.  The  least  complaint  brings  them 
to  the  gangway ;  aiid  not  unfrequently  is  a  sailor  sentenced  to 
receive  five  hundred  and  even  a  thousand  lashes,  to  be  inflicted 
day  after  day  as  he  may  be  able  to  bear  them.  He  is  attended  at 
each  whipping  by  a  surgeon  to  determine  how  much  he  can  bear 
without  immediate  danger  to  life  ;  and  often  does  the  flagellation 
proceed  till  the  victim  faints,  and  then  he  is  respited  to  renew 
his  sufferings  another  day.  This  acfcount  I  had  from  a  British 
surgeon.  I  have  often  shuddered  at  the  recital  of  the  whippings 
through  the  fleet,  the  keel-hauling,  the  spread  eagle,  the  gagging, 
the  hand-cuffing,  and  other  punishments  inflicted  on  sailors  who 
have  been  trepanned  or  forced  into  a  service  from  which  death  is 
the  only  release."  * 

Nor  is  the  punishment  of  soldiers  much  less  revolting.  "  One 
day,"  says  the  same  writer,  "  I  was  on  parade  when  preparation 
was  making  for  a  kind  of  punishment  called  the  gauntlet.  All  the 
soldiers  of  the  regiment  were  placed  in  two  ranks  facing  each 

*  Essays  on  Peace  and  War,  No.  22. 


9  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  72 

Other,  and  about  five  feet  apart.  To  each  soldier  was  given  a  stick 
three  feet  long,  or  more.  I  could  not  bear  to  stay  and  witness  the 
execution ;  but  I  was  afterwards  informed  that  the  culprit,  stripped 
naked  to  his  waist,  and  his  hands  tied  before  hun,  was  marched 
between  tlie  ranks,  preceded  by  a  soldier  walking  backwards  with 
a  bayonet  at  the  sufferer's  breast,  to  keep  him  from  going  too  fasL 
In  this  way  he  was  struck  once  by  every  soldier,  officers  going 
down  on  the  outside  of  the  ranlvs  to  see  that  each  man  did  his 
duty  !  and,  if  any  one  was  merely  suspected  of  not  laying  on  hard 
enough,  he  received  over  his  own  head  a  blow  from  tlie  officer's 
cane.  Sometimes  the  criminal  has  to  retrace  his  steps ;  and,  as  a 
regiment  consists  of  six  hundred  or  a  thousand  men,  and  some 
German  regiments  of  two  thousand,  he  must  receive  from  twelve 
hundred  to  two  or  even  four  thousand  blows !  The  punishment 
often  proves  fatal ;  and  to  such  a  pitch  of  despair  were  those  sol- 
diers carried  by  their  sufferings,  that  many  of  them  committed 
suicide  ;  and  one  poor  fellow  shot  himself  near  my  lodgings." 

"  Flogging  is  certainly  a  tremendous  punishment.  The  delin- 
quent is  stripped  to  tlie  waist,  tied  up  by  his  hands,  and  then  flog- 
ged with  a  whip  having  nine  lashes,  with  three  knots  each,  so  that 
each  stroke  makes  twenty-seven  wounds  ;  if  a  capital  sentence  is 
awarded,  he  receives  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  of  tliese  stripes ; 
and,  at  every  twenty-five  strokes,  the  drummer,  Avho  inflicts  them, 
is  changed,  in  order  to  insure  a  more  energetic  enforcement  of  the 
penalty.  This  punishment  occurs-very  frequently  in  the  English 
army,  drunkenness  and  other  acts  of  insubordination  being  often 
punished  with  from  one  to  two  hundred  lashes."  * 

"One  wintiy  mom,"  says  another  eye-witness, f  "when  the 
bleak  wind  whistled  along  the  ranks  of  a  refriment  paraded  to  see 
corporal  punishment  inflicted,  every  eye  was  turned  in  pity  to- 
wards tlie  delinquent " — his  offence  was  drunkenness — "  until  the 
commanding  officer,  with  stentorian  lungs,  cried  out,  '  Strip,  sir.' 
The  morning  was  so  bitterly  cold,  that  the  mere  exposure  of  a 
man's  naked  body  was  itself  a  severe  punislimeiit  When  the 
offender  was  tied,  or  rather  hung,  up  by  tlio  hands,  his  back,  from 
intense  cold  and  previous  flogging,  exhibited  a  complete  black- 
and-blue  appearance.  On  the  first  lash,  the  blood  spirted  out 
several  yards  ;  and,  after  he  had  received  fifty,  his  back  from  tlie 
neck  to  the  waist,  was  one  continued  stream  of  blood.  When 
taken  down,  he  staggered,  and  fell  to  the  ground.  The  poor  man 
never  looked  up  again ;  his  prospects  as  a  soldier  were  utterly 
destroyed :  and  so  keenly  did  his  degradation  i)rey  upon  Iiis  spirits, 
that  he  at  length  shot  himself  in  his  barrack-room." 

I  will  now  give  a  specimen  from  our  own  country.  A  surgeon, 
stationed  during  the  war  of  1812-14  at  Greenbush,  N.  Y.,  says, 
"  One  morning  several  prisoners  confined  in  the  provost  guard- 
house, were  brought  out  to  hear  their  sentences.     Some  wore  the 

•  The  testimony  of  a  warrior,  quoted  in  the  Harbinger  of  Peace, 
vol.  i.,  p.  281.  t  lb.,  p.  279. 


73  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  9 

marks  of  long  confinement,  and  upon  all  had  the  severity  of  the 
prison  house  stamped  its  iinpression.  They  looked  dejected  at  this 
public  exposure,  and  anxious  to  learn  their  fate.  I  had  never  seen 
tlie  face  of  any  of  them  before,  and  only  knew  that  a  single  one 
had  been  adjudged  to  death.  Soon  as  their  names  were  called, 
and  their  sentences  announced,  I  discerned,  by  his  agony  and  ges- 
tures, the  miseralple  man  on  whom  that  sentence  was  to  fall — a 
man  in  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  the  fulness  of  health  and  vigor. 

"  Prompted  by  feelings  of  sympathy,  I  called  next  morning  to  see 
him  in  his  prison.  There,  chained  by  his  leg  to  the  beam  of  the 
guard-house,  he  was  reading  the  Bible,  trying  to  prepare  himself, 
as  he  said,  for  the  fatal  hour.  I  learned  from  him  the  circum- 
stances of  his  case.  He  was  the  father  of  a  family,  having  a 
wife  and  three  young  children,  thirty  or  forty  miles  distant  from 
the  camp.  His  crime  was  desertion ;  and  his  only  object,  he  de- 
clared, was  to  visit  his  wife  and  children.  Having  seen  that  all 
was  well  with  them,  it  was  his  intention  to  return.  But,  whatever 
his  intention,  he  was  a  deserter,  and,  as  such,  taken  and  brought 
into  the  camp,  manacled.  The  time  between  the  sentence  and  its 
execution  was  brief;  the  authority  in  whom  alone  was  vested  the 
power  of  reprieve  or  pardon,  distant.  Thus  he  had  no  hope,  and 
requested  only  the  attendance  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and 
permission  to  see  his  wife  and  children.  The  first  part  of  the 
request  was  granted  ;  but  whether  he  was  permitted  or  not  to  see 
his  family,  I  do  not  now  remember. 

"  Dreading  the  hour  of  his  execution,  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to 
avoid  being  present  at  the  scene.  But  the  commander  sent  me  an 
express  order  to  attend,  that  I  might,  in  my  official  capacity  of 
surgeon,  see  the  sentence  fully  executed.  The  poor  fellow  was 
taken  from  the  guard-house,  to  be  escorted  to  the  fatal  spot.  Be- 
fore him  was  his  coffin — a  box  of  rough  pine  boards — ^bome  on 
the  shoulders  of  two  men.  The  prisoner  stood,  with  his  arms 
pinioned,  between  two  clergymen.  A  white  cotton  gown,  or 
winding  sheet,  reached  to  his  feet.  It  was  trimmed  with  black, 
and  had  attached  to  it,  over  his  heart,  tlie  black  image  of  a  heart — 
the  mark  at  which  the  executioners  were  to  aim.  On  his  head 
was  a  cap  of  white,  also  trimmed  with  black.  His  countenance 
was  blanched  to  the  hue  of  his  winding  sheet,  and  his  frame  trem- 
bled with  agony.  Our  procession  formed,  we  moved  forward  with 
slow  and  measured  steps  to  the  tune  of  a  death  march,  (Roslin 
Castle,)  played  with  muffled  drums,  and  mourning  fifes.  The 
scene  was  solemn  beyond  tlie  power  of  description ;  a  man  in  the 
vigor  of  life  walking  to  his  grave — to  the  tune  of  his  own  death 
march — clothed  in  his  burial  robes — surrounded,  not  by  friends 
assembled  to  perform  the  last  sad  offices  of  affection,  and  to  weep 
over  him  in  the  last  sad  hour,  but  by  soldiers  with  bristling  bayo- 
nets and  loaded  muskets,  urged  by  stern  command  to  do  9ie  vio- 
lence of  death  to  a  fellow  soldier.  Amid  reflections  like  these, 
we  arrived  at  the  place  of  execution^  a  large  open  field,  in  whose 
centre  a  heap  of  earth,  freshly  tlirown  up,  marked  the  spot  of  the 
deserter's  grave.    On  this  field  the  whole  force  then  ^t  the  can- 


fd  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  74 

tonment  was  drawn  up  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square,  with  the 
side  beyond  the  grave  vacant  The  executioners,  eight  in  num- 
ber, had  been  drawn  by  lot  No  soldier  would  volunteer  for  such 
a  duty.  Their  muskets  had  been  charged  by  the  officer  of  the 
day,  seven  of  them  Avith  ball,  the  eighth  witli  powder  alone.  Thus 
each  may  believe  that  he  has  the  blank  cartridge,  and  therefore 
has  no  hand  in  the  death  of  his  brother  soldier — striking  indica- 
tions of  the  nature  of  the  serA'ice. 

"  The  coffin  was  placed  parallel  with  the  grave,  and  about  two 
feet  distant  In  the  intervening  space,  the  prisoner  was  directed 
to  stand.  He  desired  permission  to  say  a  word  to  his  fellow  sol- 
diers ;  and  thus  standing  between  his  coffin  and  his  grave,  he  warned 
them  against  desertion,  continuing  to  speak  until  the  officer  on 
duty,  with  his  watch  in  his  hand,  announced  to  him  in  a  low  voice, 
Two  o'dockf  your  lust  moment  is  at  hand — you  must  kneel  on  your 
coffin.  This  done,  tlie  officer  drew  down  the  white  cap,  so  as  to 
cover  the  eyes  and  most  of  the  face  of  the  prisoner.  The  kneeling 
was  the  signal  for  the  executioners  to  advance.  They  had  before, 
to  avoid  being  distinguished  by  the  prisoner,  stood  intermingled 
witli  the  soldiers  who  formed  tlie  line.  They  now  came  forward, 
marching  abreast,  and  took  their  stand  a  little  to  the  left,  about 
two  rods  distant  from  their  living  mark.  The  officer  raised  his 
sword.  At  this  signal,  the  executioners  took  aim.  He  then  gave 
a  blow  on  a  drum  which  was  at  hand  ;  the  executioners  all  fired 
at  the  same  instant  The  miserable  man,  with  a  horrid  scream, 
leaped  from  tlie  earth,  and  fell  between  his  coffin  and  his  grave. 
The  sergeant  of  the  guard,  a  moment  after,  shot  him  through  tlie 
head,  holding  the  muzzle  so  near  tliat  his  cap  took  fire ;  and  there 
the  body  lay  upon  the  face,  tlie  head  emitting  the  mingled  fumes 
of  burning  cotton  and  burning  hair.  The  whole  line  then  marched 
by  the  body,  as  it  lay  upon  the  earth,  the  head  still  smoking,  that 
every  man  might  behold  for  himself  tlie  fate  of  a  deserter. 

"  We  then  started  on  our  return.  The  whole  band  struck  up, 
with  uncommon  animation,  our  national  air,  (Yankee  Doodle,)  and 
to  its  lively  measures  we  were  hurried  back  to  our  parade  ground ! 
Having  been  dismissed,  the  commander  of  the  post  sent  an  in- 
vitation to  all  the  officers  to  meet  at  his  quarters,  whither  we 
repaired,  and  were  treated  to  a  glass  of  gin  and  water: ! ! " 

I  will  quote  a  recent  case  from  England.  "  On  the  29th  of  June, 
1839,  the  Tower  of  London  and  its  environs  were  thrown  into 
great  excitement  by  the  flogging  of  two  privates,  for  insulting  non- 
commissioned officers !  One  was  sentenced  to  receive  one  hundred 
lashes  with  the  cat-o'-nine-tails,  and  the  other  one  hundred  and  fifty. 
The  time  chosen  was  ten  o'clock ;  the  place  the  most  public  in  the 
Tower.  The  first  man  brought  out,  was  a  fine  young  man,  named 
Jarman,  whose  crime  was  insulting  his  sergeant  He  was  secured 
to  the  halberts  by  tliin  cords,  which  severely  cut  his  flesh ;  and 
the  dreadful  and  beastly  infliction  commenced.  He  received  his 
punishment  without  uttering  a  word  or  a  groan,  although  the 
punishment  was  unusually  severe,  the  drummers  being  changed 
every  ten  lashes,  instead  of  twenty-five  as  heretofore,  and  the  cat, 


75  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  11 

the  instrument  of  punishment,  very  heavy.  After  he  had  received 
the  hundred  lashes,  or  nine  hundred  stripes,  his  back  presented  a 
mangled  appearance,  and  tlie  blood  poured  down  his  person. 

"As  soon  as  the  first  man  left  the  square,  the  second  man,  Slade, 
a  much  slighter  person  than  the  other,  was  called  to  the  front. 
He  was  sentenced  to  receive  one  hundred  and  fifty  lashes,  or  one 
thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty  stripes.  It  was  evident  he  did 
not  possess  the  nerve  of  the  other  man ;  he  shook  so  violently  that 
he  was  scarcely  able  to  pull  his  jacket  off,  and  his  terror  was  evi- 
dent to  all.  Upon  being  tied  up,  he  shook  from  head  to  foot ;  and 
the  moment  he  was  struck,  he  began  to  shriek  loudly,  and  earnest- 
ly called  out '  mercy,  mercy ! '  which  were  heard  very  distinctly  all 
over  the  Tower.  The  cat  fell  with  double  force  on  his  back,  ow- 
ing to  its  being  wetted  with  the  blood  of  the  other  man.  Slade 
no  sooner  began  to  call  out  than  the  drums  were  beaten  to  stifle 
his  cries,  and  re-echoed  among  the  walls.  When  about  seventy 
or  eighty  lashes  had  been  inflicted,  the  poor  fellow's  head  fell  on 
his  shoulder,  and  it  was  supposed  he  had  fainted;  but  such  was 
not  the  case,  as  the  commanding  ofiicer  walked  up  to  the  triangle, 
and  on  looking  him  in  the  face,  he  ordered  the  drummer  to  pro- 
ceed. At  this  time,  with  the  exception  of  the  drummers  who 
were  selected  to  flog,  it  took  all  the  others  to  secure  him,  his  back 
being  literally  cut  to  pieces  from  his  neck  to  his  loins.  His  cries 
for  mercy  were  unavailing,  until  one  hundred  lashes  had  been  in- 
flicted, when  it  was  found  he  was  unable  to  bear  any  more.  He 
was  led  away  between  two  of  his  comrades,  a  truly  shocking  spec- 
tacle of  suffering  humanity.  Several  men  fainted  away ;  and  we 
could  mention  the  names  of  several  officers  who  did  have  humanity 
enough  to  loosen  the  stocks  and  coats  of  several  privates.  Many 
clerks  and  others  of  the  ordnance  department,  witnessed  part  of 
the  punishment,  but,  to  use  their  own  words,  were  unable  to  stand 
it  out.  The  lady  of  the  resident  governor  happened  to  go  to  her 
window,  and,  hearing  the  cries  of  Slade,  fell  into  hysterics,  and  the 
whole  family  were  for  some  time  in  great  confusion.  Several  re- 
spectable civilians  expressed  their  indignation,  and  said  they 
would  not  live  in  the  Tower,  if  such  scenes  were  repeated." 

In  other  countries,  military  punishments  are  often  still  more 
barbarous ;  but  I-  will  quote  only  a  single  case  similar  to  those  of 
England  and  the  United  States.  "  Shortly,"  says  Campbell,  %vrit- 
ing  from  Algiers,  "  after  we  reached  the  ground  where  the  French 
deserter's  faite  was  to  be  enacted.  From  the  prison-gate  we  saw 
come  forth  a  company,  their  drums  muffled  with  crape,  and  the 
victim  in  the  centre  on  foot,  followed  by  the  horse  and  cart  that 
were  to  carry  back  his  dead  body.  After  his  sentence  had  been 
read  by  the  commanding  officer,  he  made  his  last  speech  to  the 
troops,  more  than  a  tliousand  in  number,  drawn  up  around  him : 
'  Comrades,  what  my  sentence  of  death  has  told  you  is  all  true,  ex- 
cept that  it  has  unjustly  called  me  the  chief  conspirator  in  this  late 
desertion.  For  I  seduced  nobody  into  it ;  on  the  contrary,  I  was 
persuaded  into  it  by  others.  The  motive  of  my  crime  was  merely 
an  intense  desire  to  see  my  father's  family  in  Italy ;  and  now  m.'^ 


I^  MILITARY    DISCIPLINE.  76 

blood  is  to  be  shed,  and  my  brains  scattered  on  the  ground,  be- 
cause my  heart  yearned  for  a  sight  of  my  brothers  and  sisters ! 
Soldiers  who  are  to  shoot  me,  do  your  duty  quickly,  and  do  not 
keep  me  in  torment' 

"  He  then  stepped  forward  some  paces ;  eleven  musket  shots  laid 
him  low,  tliough  he  jumped  up  before  he  fell,  when  the  balls  pierced 
him ;  the  twelfth  soldier,  going  up  to  him  as  he  lay  on  the  ground, 
fired  close  into  his  head.  You  will  not  wonder  that  my  tears  at 
this  crisis  blinded  me  ;  and  when  I  denied  them,  I  could  not  see 
iJie  victim.  I  said  to  Lagondie,  '  Where  is  he  ? '  '  Look  there,' 
he  answered,  pointing  with  his  fing'er ;  '  don't  you  see  a  red  stripe 
on  the  ground?'  And  sure  enough  I  saw  it;  his  red  pantaloons 
made  one  part  of  the  stripe,  and  his  bleeding  head  and  body  the 
other.  All  tlie  troops  defiled  around  him.  We  came  down  to  the 
spot;  but  before  we  reached  it,  the  body  had  been  removed  in  a 
cart,  and  nothing  remained  but  some  blood  and  brains,  and  a  por- 
tion of  liis  skull." 

These  examples  will  speak  for  themselves ;  but  I  must  beg  the 
reader  to  note  a  few  points — ^the  frequency,  as  well  as  the  exces- 
sive severity  of  tliese  punishments ;  the  slight  offences  for  which 
many  of  them  were  inflicted ;  the  despotic  power  vested  in  offi- 
cers ;  the  exposure  of  privates  without  a  screen  to  the  fiiry  of  their 
passions ;  the  utter  want  in  most  cases  of  a  fair  trial,  or  any  trial 
at  all ;  and  the  impossibility  of  obtaining  any  redress  even  for  the 
most  outrageous  cruelties  practised  upon  them  by  superiors. 

Nor  can  it  be  said  that  these  enormities  are  foreign  or  obsolete ; 
for  every  one  of  the  foregoing  examples  has  been  taken  from  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  from  tlie  most  enlightened  nations  in 
Christendom !  They  are  inseparable  from  war ;  some  of  the  very 
■writers  I  have  quoted,  plead  their  necessity  as  a  justification  of 
their  severity ;  and,  if  we  wish  an  end  put  to  such  brutal  out- 
rages, we  must  abolish  the  whole  war-system. 

In  tlie  name,  then,  of  religion  and  humanity,  we  ask  if  a  custom 
which  legalizes  such  savage  barbarities,  and  in  the  very  heart  of 
Christendom,  insists,  even  under  the  blaze  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, that  it  cannot  exist  without  them,  shall  be  continued  by  men 
calling  themselves  worshippers  of  a  God  of  love,  and  followers  of 
the  Prince  of  peace !  Shall  baptized  poetry  and  eloquence  still 
eulogize  this  offspring  of  a  pagan  barbarism  ?  Shall  the  press  stiil 
fawn  upon  it,  and  the  pulpit  still  justify  it,  and  real  Christians 
lend  it  the  support  of  their  example,  and  the  sanction  of  their 
prayers  ?  Will  pious  parents  train  up  their  own  sons  for  the  ser- 
vice of  such  a  Juggernaut?,  Will  the  young  in  their  thoughtless- 
ness, or  tlie  unfortunate  in  their  desperation,  expose  themselves, 
as  they  must  by  enlistment,  to  the  certainty  of  such  despotic  and 
brutal  treatment  through  life  ?  Will  men  of  any  sense  or  self- 
respect  much  Innsrer  lend  themselves  as  its  victims  or  its  tools  ? 
Christianity,  civilization,  humanity,  common  sense,  and  common 
decency,  ail,  all  answer,  no,  no. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


•■     No.  IX. 
ERASMUS    ON    WAR. 


If  there  is  in  the  affairs  of  mortal  men  any  one  thing  which  it  is 
proper  uniformly  to.  explode,  and  incumbent  on  every  man  by  ev- 
ery lawful  means  to  avoid,  to  deprecate,  to  oppose,  that  one  thing 
is  doubtless  War.  There  is  nothing  more  unnaturally  wicked, 
more  productive  of  misery,  more  extensively  destructive,  more  ob- 
stinate in  mischief,  more  unworthy  of  man,  as  formed  by  nature, 
much  more  of  man  professing  Christianity.  Yet,  wonderful  to  re- 
late !  war  is  undertaken,  and  cruelly,  savagely  conducted,  not  only 
by  unbelievers,  but  by  Christians.  Nor  are  there  ever  wanting 
men  learned  in  the  law,  and  even  divines,  who  are  ready  to  fur- 
nish firebrands  for  the  nefarious  work,  and  to  fan  the  latent  sparks 
into  a  flame.  Hence  war  is  considered  so  much  a  thing  of  course, 
that  the  wonder  is,  how  any  man  can  disapprove  of  it ;  so  much 
sanctioned  by  authority  and  custom,  that  it  is  deemed  impious  to 
have  borne  testimony  against  a  practice  in  its  principle  most  prof- 
ligate, and  in  its  effects  pregnant  with  every  kind  of  calanjity. 

If  any  one  considers  the  organization  and  external  figure  of  the 
body,  will  he  not  instantly  perceive  that  Nature,  or  rather  the  God 
of  Nature,  created  the  human  animal  not  for  ivar,  but  for  love  and 
friendship;  not  for  mutual  destruction,  hut  for  mutual  service  and 
safety ;  not  to  commit  injuries,  but  for  acts  of  reciprocal  beneficence  ? 
Man  she  brought  into  the  world  naked,  weak,  tender,  unarmed, 
his  flesh  of  the  softest  texture,  his  skin  smooth,  delicate,  and  sus- 
ceptible of  the  slightest  injury.  There  is  nothing  observable  in 
his  limbs  adapted  to  fiahting,  or  to  violence.  Unable  either  to 
speak  or  walk,  or  help  himself  to  food,  he  can  implore  relief  only 
by  tears  and  wailing ;  so  that  from  this  circumstance  alone  might 
be  collected,  that  man  is  an  animal  born  for  that  love  and  friend- 
ship which  is  formed  and  cemented  by  the  mutual  interchange  of 
benevolent  offices.  Moreover,  Nature  evidently  intended  that  man 
should  consider  himself  indebted  for  the  boon  of  life,  not  so  much 
to  herself  as  to  the  kindness  of  his  fellow  man  ;  that  he  might  per- 
ceive himself  designed  for  social  affections,  and  the  attachments 
of  friendship  and  love.  Then  she  gave  him  a  countenance  not 
frightful  and  forbidding,  but  mild  and  placid,  imitating  by  external 
signs  the  benignity  of  his  disposition.  She  gave  him  eyes  full 
of  affectionate  expression,  the  indexes  of  a  mind  delighting  in  so- 
cial sympathy.  She  gave  him  arms  to  embrace  his  fellow  crea- 
tures. She  gave  him  lips  to  express  a  union  of  heart  and  soul. 
She  gave  him  alone  the  power  of  laughing,  a  mark  of  the  joy  of 
which  he  is  susceptible.  She  gave  him  tears,  the  symbol  of  clem- 
ency and  compassion.  She  gave  hmi  also  a  voice,  not  a  menacinff" 
and  frightful  yell,  but  bland,  soothing  and  friendly.    Not  satined 

p.  T.      NO.  IX. 


j|  ERASMUS    ON    WAR.  78 

with  tliese  marks  of  her  peculiar  favor,  she  bestowed  on  him  alone 
the  use  of  speech  and  reason  ;  a  gift  which  tends  more  than  any 
other  to  conciliate  and  cherish  benevolence,  and  a  desire  of  ren- 
dering mutual  services ;  so  that  notliing  among  human  creatures 
might  be  done  by  violence.  She  implanted  in  man  a  hatred  of  sol- 
itude, and  a  love  of  company.  She  sowed  in  his  heart  tlie  seeds 
of  every  benevolent  affection,  and  thus  rendered  what  is  most  sal- 
utary, at  the  same  time  most  agreeable. 

Now  view  with  the  eyes  of  your  imagination,  savage  troops  of 
men,  horrible  in  their  very  visages  and  voices  ;  men  clad  in  steel, 
drawn  up  on  every  side  in  battle  array,  armed  witli  weapons, 
frightful  in  tlieir  crash  and  their  very  glitter ;  mark  the  horrid  mur- 
mur of  the  confused  multitude,  tlieir  threatening  eye-balls,  the 
harsh  jarring  din  of  drums  and  clarions,  the  terrific  sound  of  the 
trumpet,  the  thunder  of  the  cannon,  a  noise  not  less  formidable 
than  the  real  thunder  of  heaven,  and  more  hurtful,  a  mad  shout 
like  that  of  the  shrieks  of  Bedlamites,  a  furious  onset,  a  cruel 
butchering  of  each  other !  See  the  slaughtered  and  the  slaughter- 
ing! heaps  of  dead  bodies,  fields  flowing  with  blood,  rivers  reddened 
with  human  gore ! 

Meanwhile  I  pass  over  the  corn-fields  trodden  down,  peaceful 
cottages  and  rural  mansions  burnt  to  the  ground,  villages  and 
towns  reduced  to  ashes,  the  cattle  driven  from  their  pasture,  inno- 
cent women  violated,  old  men  dragged  into  captivity,  churches  de- 
faced and  demolished,  every  thing  laid  waste,  a  prey  to  robbery, 
plunder  and  violence !  Not  to  mention  the  consequences  ensu- 
ing to  the  people  after  a  war  even  the  most  fortunate  in  its  event, — 
the  poor,  unc^ending  common  people  robbed  of  tlieir  little  hard- 
earned  property  ;  the  great  laden  witli  taxes ;  old  people  bereaved 
of  their  children,  more  cruelly  killed  by  the  murder  of  their  off- 
spring, than  by  the  sword,  happier  if  the  enemy  had  deprived  tliem 
of  the  sense  of  their  misfortune,  and  life  itself,  at  the  same  mo- 
ment ;  women  far  advanced  in  age,  left  destitiite,  and  more  cruelly 
put  to  death,  than  if  they  had  died  at  once  by  the  point  of  the  bay- 
onet ;  widowed  mothers,  orphan  children,  houses  of  mourning,  and 
families,  that  once  knew  better  days,  reduced  to  extreme  penury. 

Peace  is  at  once  the  mother  and  the  nurse  of  all  that  is 
good  for  man ;  war,  on  a  sudden,  and  at  one  stroke,  overwhelms, 
extinguishes,  abolishes,  whatever  is  cheerftil,  whatever  is  happy 
and  beautiful,  and  pours  a  foul  torrent  of  disasters  on  the  life  of 
mortals.  Peace  shines  upon  human  affairs  like  the  vernal  sun. 
The  fields  are  cultivated,  the  gardens  bloom,  the  cattle  are  fed  upon 
a  thousand  hills,  new  buildings  arise,  riches  flow,  pleasures  sniile, 
humanity  and  charity  increase,  arts  and  manufactures  feel  the  ge- 
nial warmth  of  encouragement,  and  the  gains  of  tlie  poor  are  more 
plentiful.  But  no  sooner  does  the  storm  of  war  begin  to  lower, 
than  what  a  deluge  of  miseries  and  misfortune  seizes,  inundates, 
and  overwhelms  all  things  within  tlie  sphere  of  its  action !  The 
flocks  are  scattered,  the  harvest  trampled,  the  husbandman  butch- 
ered, villas  and  villages  burnt,  cities  and  states  that  have  been 


79  ERASMUS    ON    WAR.  3 

ages  rising  to  their  flourishing  state,  subverted  by  the  fury  of  one 
tempest,  the  storm  of  war.  So  much  easier  is  the  task  of  doing 
harm  than  of  doing  good;  of  destroying  than  of  building  up ! 

To  these  considerations  add,  that  the  advantages  derived  from 
peace  diffuse  themselves  far  and  wide,  and  reach  great  numbers ; 
while  in  ivar,  if  any  thing  turns  out  happily,  the  advantage  re- 
dounds only  to  Eifew,  and  those  unworthy  of  reaping  it.  One  man's 
safety  is  owing  to  the  destruction  of  another.  One  man's  prize 
is  derived  from  the  plunder  of  another.  The  cause  of  rejoicings 
made  by  one  side,  is  to  the  other  a  cause  of  mourning.  Whatever 
is  unfortunate  in  war  is  severely  so  indeed,  and  wliatever,  on  the 
contrary,  is  called  good  fortune,  is  a  savage  and  a  cruel  good  for- 
tune, an  ungenerous  happiness,  deriving  its  existence  from  another's 
wo.  Indeed,  at  the  conclusion,  it  commonly  happens  that  both 
sides,  the  victorious  and  the  vanquished,  have  cause  to  deplore. 
I  know  not  whether  any  war  ever  succeeded  so  fortunately  in  all 
its  events,  but  that  the  conqueror,  if  he  had  a  heart  to  feel,  or  an 
understanding  to  judge,  as  he  ought  to  do,  repented  that  he  ever 
engaged  in  it  at  all. 

Such  and  so  great  are  the  evils  which  are  submitted  to,  in  order 
to  accomplish  an  end,  itself  a  greater  evil  than  all  that  have  pre- 
ceded in  preparation  for  it.  We  thus  afflict  ourselves  for  the  no- 
ble end  of  enabling  ourselves  to  afflict  others.  If  we  were  to  cal- 
culate the  matter  fairly,  and  form  a  just  computation  of  the  cost 
attending  war,  and  that  of  procuring  peace,  we  should  find  that 
peace  might  be  purchased  at  a  tenth  part  of  tlie  cares,  labors, 
troubles,  dangers,  expenses,  and  blood,  which  it  costs  to  ^^rry  on 
a  war.  But  the  object  is  to  do  all  possible  injury  to  an  enemy  ! 
A  most  inhuman  object !  and  consider,  whether  you  can  hurt  him 
essentially  without  hurting,  by  the  same  means,  your  own  people. 
It  surely  is  to  act  like  a  madman  to  take  to  yourself  so  large  a 
portion  of  certain  evil,  when  it  must  ever  be  uncertain  how  the  die 
f  war  may  fall  in  the  ultimate  issue. 

Where  are  there  so  many  and  so  sacred  obligations  to  perfect 
concord,  as  in  the  Christian  religion  ?  Where  so  numerous  ex- 
hortations to  peace  ?  One  law  Jesus  Christ  clauned  as  his  own 
peculiar  law ;  it  was  the  law  of  love  or  chmity.  What  practice 
among  mankind  violates  this  law  so  gi-ossly  as  war  ?  Examine 
every  part  of  his  doctrine,  you  will  find  nothing  that  does  not 
breathe  peace,  spoEik  the  language  of  love,  and  savor  of  charity  ; 
and  as  he  knew  that  peace  could  not  be  preserved  unless  tliose  ob- 
jects for  which  the  world  contends  with  the  sword's  point  were  con- 
sidered as  vile  and  contemptible,  he  ordered  us  to  learn  of  him  to 
be  meek  and  lowly.  He  pronounced  tliose  happy  who  held  riches 
in  no  esteem.  He  prohibited  resistance  of  evil^In  short,  as  the 
whole  of  his  doctrine  recommended  forbearance  and  love,  so  his 
life  taught  nothing  but  mildness,  gentleness,  and  kind  affection. 
Nor  do  the  apostles  inculcate  any  other  doctrine  ;  they  who  had 
imbibed  the  purest  spirit  of  Christ,'and  were  filled  with  sacred 
draughts  from  the  fountain  head.    What  do  all  the  epistles  of 


y 


4  ERASMUS    ON    WAR.  80 

Paul  resound  with  but  peace,  long-suflfering,  charity  ?    What  else 
do  all  the  writers  in  the  world  who  are  truly  Christian  ? 

But  let  us  observe  how  Cluistians  defend  tlie  madness  of  war. 
If,  say  they,  war  had  been  absolutely  unlawful,  God  would  not  have 
excited  tlie  Jews  to  wage  war  against  tlieir  enemies.  But  tlie 
Jews  scarcely  ever  waged  war,  as  the  Christians  do,  against  each 
other,  but  against  aliens  and  infidels;  we  Christians  draw  the 
sword  against  Christians ;  they  fought  at  Hie  express  comviand  of 
God ;  we  at  tlie  command  of  our  own  passions. 

But  even  Christians  urge,  tliat  the  laws  of  nature,  of  society,  of 
custom  and  usage,  conspire  to  dictate  tlic  propriety  of  repelling 
force  by  force,  and  defending  life,  and  money  too.  So  much  I  allow. 
But  Gospel  Grace,  of  more  force  tlian  all  tJiese  laws,  declares  in 
decisive  words,  that  we  must  do  good  to  those  who  use  us  ill,  and 
should  also  pray  for  those  who  design  to  take  away  our  lives.  All 
this,  they  tell  us,  had  a  particular  reference  to  the  apostles  ;  bu^I 
contend  that  it  also  refers  to  all  Ciiristian  people. 

They  also  argue  that,  as  it  is  lawful  to  inflict  punisliraent  on  an 
individual  delinquent,  it  must  be  laAvful  to  take  vengeance  on 
an  offending  State.  The  full  answer  to  be  given  to  this  argument 
would  involve  me  in  greater  prolixity  than  is  now  requisite ;  and 
I  will  only  say,  that  the  two  cases  differ  widely  in  tliis  respect : 
He  who  is  convicted  judicially,  suffere  tlie  punishment  which  the 
laws  impose;  but  imvar,  each  side  treats  the  other  as  guilty,  and 
proceeds  to  inflict  punishment,  regardless  of  law,  judge  or  jury. 
In  the  fomier  case,  the  evil  falls  only  on  him  who  committed  the 
wrong  j»  in  the  latter  case,  the  greatest  part  of  tlie  numerous  evils 
falls  on  those  who  deserve  no  evil  at  all, — on  husbandmen,  on  old 
people,  on  motliers,  on  orphans  and  defenceless  females. 

But  the  objector  repeats,  "  Why  may  I  not  go  and  cut  the 
throats  of  those  who  would  cut  our  throats,  if  they  could  ?  "  Do 
you  then  deem  it  a  disgrace  that  any  should  be  more  wicked  than 
yourself  ?  Why  do  you  not  go  and  rob  thieves  ?  They  would 
rob  you,  if  tliey  could.  Why  do  you  not  revile  tliem  that  revil^v^ 
you  ?  Why  do  you  not  hate  them  that  hate  you  ?  Do  you  con- 
sider it  as  a  noble  exploit  for  a  Christian,  having  killed  in  war 
those  whom  he  thinks  wicked,  but  who  still  are  men  for  whom 
Christ  died,  thus  to  offer  up  victims  most  acceptable  to  the  Devil, 
and  to  delight  that  grand  enemy  in  two  respects,  first,  tliat  a  man 
is  slain  at  all,  and  next,  that  tlie  man  who  slew,  is  a  Christian? 

If  the  Christian  religion  be  a  fable,  why  do  we  not  honestly  and 
openly  explode  it  ?  Why  do  we  glory  in  its  name  ?  But  if  Christ 
is  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,"  why  do  all  our  plans  of  con- 
duct differ  so  far  from  his  instructions  and  example  ?  If  we  ac- 
knowledge Christ  to  be  our  Lord  and  Master,  who  is  love  itself, 
and  who  taught  nothing  but  love  and  peace,  let  us  exhibit  his 
model  in  our  lives  and  conversation.  Let  us  adopt  tlie  love  of 
peace,  that  Christ  may  recognize  his  own,  even  as  we  recognize 
him  to  be  the  Teacher  of  Peace. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  X. 

THE   RUSSIAN   CAMPAIGN, 

OR 

SPECIMENS    OF    WAR    AMONG    NOMINAL    CHRISTIANS    IN    THE 
NINETEENTH    CENTURY. 


Napoleon's  career  was  a  pretty  fair  illustration  of  war  among' 
civilized,  nominally  Christian  men ;  and  from  his  la^t  great  cam- 
paign (1812)  in  Russia,  we  may  learn  what  war  ever  has  been,  and 
ever  must  be — -a  mass  of  evils,  a  tissue  of  suffering  and  wo  to 
nearly  all  concerned,  to  the  victors  as  well  as  the  vanquished. 
The  events  of  that  campaign  were  recorded  on  the  spot  by  many 
eye-witnesses ;  and  Labaume,  from  whose  narrative  most  of  the 
following  statements  are  taken,  himself  one  of  the  actors  in  that 
long  and  terrible  tragedy,  says,  "  it  was  by  the  light  of  burning 
Moscow  that  I  described  tlie  pillage  of  that  city ;  it  was  on  tlie 
banks  of  the  Berezina  that  I  traced  the  narrative  of  that  fatal  pas- 
sage. It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  the  difficulties  I  had  to 
surmount,  in  making  my  memoranda.  Compelled  to  struggle  with 
the  most  imperious  necessity,  benumbed  with  cold,  and  tormented 
with  hunger,  I  was  a  prey  to  every  kind  of  suffering.  Uncertain, 
at  the  rising  of  the  sun,  whether  I  should  see  his  setting  rays,  and 
in  the  evening  doubtful  of  witnessing  another  day,  every  liiought 
was  absorbed  in  the  desire  of  livinglo  preserve  the  remembrance 
of  what  I  had  seen.  Animated  by  this  feeling,  I  wrote  the  events 
of  the  day  every  evening,  before  a  bad  fire,  under  a  temperature 
twenty  degrees  below  tJie  freezing  point,  and  surrounded  by  the 
dying  and  the  dead.  I  made  my  pens  from  the  quills  of  the  raven, 
with  tlie  same  knife  tliat  I  used  in  cutting  up  horse-flesh  for 
my  food ;  and  a  little  gunpowder,  mixed  up  in  the  hollow  of  my 
hand  with  melted  snow,  supplied  the  place  of  ink  and  inkstand." 

For  this  grand  enterprize,  designed  to  be  the  crowning  one  of 
his  life.  Napoleon  had  mustered  full  half  a  million  of  men,  no  less, 
according  to  some  writers  of  credit,  than  494,000  effective  troops  ; 
nor  is  it  a  high  estimate  to  suppose,  that  a  million,  if  not  more, 
were  engaged  on  both  sides  as  combatants  in  that  desperate  and 
disastrous  struggle.  On  the  22d  of  June,  he  issued  from  Wilko- 
wiski  his  proclamation  of  war ;  but,  passing  over  the  two  first 
months  of  the  campaign,  we  will  quote  a  few  specimens  of  its 
subsequent  progress : 

Smolensk. — After  an  obstinate  battle,  (Aug.  19,)  the  Russians 
set  fire  to  the  city,  and  retreated,  leaving  the  streets  and  squa>res 
covered  with  their  dead  and  wounded.  "  The  next  day,"  says 
Labaume,  "  we  entered  Smolensk  by  the  suburb  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  marching  in  every  direction  over  ruins  and  dead  bodies. 
The  palaces  still  burning,  presented  to  our  view  only  w^Us  half 

p.  T.      NO.  X. 


2  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  82 

destroyed  by  the  flames  ;  and  thick  among  the  smoking  fragments 
lay  tlie  blackened  carcasses  of  the  inhabitants  who  had  perished 
in  the  fire.  The  soldiers  had  taken  possession  of  tlie  few  re- 
maining houses,  whilst  tlie  proprietor,  bereft  of  an  asylum,  stood 
at  his  door,  weeping  tlie  death  of  his  children,  and  the  loss  of  his 
fortune.  The  churches  alone  afforded  some  consolation  to  the 
wretched  beings  who  had  no  longer  a  shelter.  The  cathedral, 
celebrated  throughout  Europe,  and  highly  venerated  by  tlie  Rus- 
sians, became  the  refuge  of  those  who  had  escaped  the  confiagr^ 
tion.  In  this  church,  and  around  its  altars,  lay  whole  families* 
stretched  upon  rags.  Here  we  saw  an  old  man  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  casting  his  last  look  towards  the  image  of  the  saint  whom 
he  had  all  his  life  invoked  ;  and  there,  an  infant  whose  cries  the 
mother,  worn  down  witli  grief,  w^as  endeavoring  to  hush,  and,  as 
she  gave  it  the  breast,  bathed  it  in  her  tears." 

BoRODiN'O. — "  Before  day-break,  (Sept  7,)  the  two  armies  were 
drawn  up  in  order  of  battle.  Two  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  men 
waited,  in  awful  suspense,  the  signal  to  engage.  At  six  o'clock, 
the  thunder  of  the  artillery  broke  the  dreadful  silence.  The  battle 
soon  became  general,  and  raged  with  tremendous  fury.  The  fire 
of  two  hundred  pieces  of  cannon  enveloped  the  two  armies  in 
smoke,  and,  mowing  down  whole  battalions,  strewed  the  field  with 
the  dead  and  wounded.  The  latter  fell  to  expose  tliemselves  to  a 
fate  still  more  terrible.  How  agonizing  their  situation!  Forty 
thousand  dragoons  crossing  the  field  in  every  direction,  trampled 
them  under  foot,  and  dyed  the  horses'  hoofs  in  their  blood.  The 
flying  artillery,  in  rapid  and  alternate  advance  and  retreat,  put  a 
period  to  the  anguish  of  some,  and  inflicted  new  torments  on 
others  who  were  mangled  by  their  wheels.  A  redoubt  in  the 
centre  of  the  Russian  army  Avas  several  times  taken  and  retaken 
with  desperate  slaughter,  but  finally  remained  in  possession  of 
the  French.  The  interior  of  the  redoubt  presented  a  frightful 
scene ;  the  dead  were  heaped  on  each  other,  and  among  them 
were  many  wounded  whose  cries  could  not  be  heard.  Night 
separated  the  combatants,  but  lefl  Eighty  Thousand  Mejv  dead 
on  the  field ! 

"  In  traversing  next  day  the  elevated  plain  on  which  we  had 
fought,  we  were  enabled  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  immense  loss 
sustained  by  the  Russians.  A  surface  of  about  nine  square  miles 
in  extent,  was  covered  with  the  killed  and  wounded,  with  the 
wreck  of  arms,  lances,  helmets  and  cuirasses,  and  with  balls  as 
numerous  as  hail-stones  afler  a  violent  storm.  In  many  places  tlio 
bursting  of  shells  had  overturned  men  and  horses  ;  and  such  was 
the  havoc  occasioned  by  repeated  discharges,  that  mountains  of 
dead  bodies  were  raised.  But  the  most  dreadful  spectacle  was  the 
interior  of  the  ravines,  where  the  wounded  had  instinctively  crawled 
to  avoid  the  shot  Here  these  unfortunate  wretches,  lying  one 
upon  anotlier,  destitute  of  assistance,  and  weltering  in  their  blood, 
uttered  the  most  horrid  groans.  Loudly  invoking  deatli,  they  be- 
sought us  to  put  an  end  to  their  excruciating  torments. 


83  THE   RUSSIAN   CAMPAIGN.  3 

"  As  we  drew  near  Rouza,  two  days  after,  we  met  a  great  num- 
ber of  carts  brought  back  by  the  cavalry.  It  was  afflicting  to  see 
them  loaded  with  children,  with  the  aged  and  the  infirm ;  and  we 
grieved  to  think  how  soon  the  horses  and  carts,  which  formed  the 
whole  fortune  of  those  ruined  families,  would  be  divided  among 
the  troops.  In  our  advance  to  the  centre  of  the  town,  we  saw  a 
crowd  of  soldiers  pillaging  the  houses,  regardless  of  the  cries  of 
those  to  whom  they  belonged,  or  of  the  tears  of  mothers  who,  to 
soften  the  hearts  of  their  conquerors,  showed  them  their  children 
on  their  knees ;  those  innocente,  with  their  hands  clasped,  and 
bathed  in  tears,  asked  only  that^BBir  lives  might  be  spared. 

"  We  could  judge  of  the  donsternation  that  reigned  in  the 
capital,  by  the  terror  with  which  we  had  inspired  the  peasantry. 
No  sooner  were  they  informed  of  our  arrival  at  Rouza,  and  of  the 
barbarous  manner  in  which  we  had  treated  the  inhabitants,  than 
all  the  villages  on  the  road  to  Moscow  were  instantly  abandoned  ; 
many  of  the  fugitives,  driven  to  desperation,  set  fire  to  their 
houses,  their  country  seats,  and  to  the  com  and  hay  just  gathered 
in.  Discouraged  by  the  fatal  and  useless  resistance  of  the  militia 
of  Rouza,  the  greater  part  of  them  threw  down  the  pikes  with 
which  they  had  been  armed,  and  hastened  to  conceal  themselves, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  in  thick  forests  at  a  distance  from 
our  route." 

Moscow. — "  As  we  drew  near  the  city,  (Sept.  15,)  we  observed 
that  it  had  no  walls.  We  saw  nothing  to  indicate  that  the  capital 
was  inhabited ;  and  the  road  by  which  we  arrived,  was  so  deserted, 
that  we  did  not  see  a  single  Muscovite,  or  even  a  French  soldier. 
We  found  neither  soldiers  nor  inhabitants  in  the  part  of  the  city 
we  were  to  occupy ;  a  death-like  silence  reigned  in  the  forsaken 
quarters ;  the  most  intrepid  were  intimidated  by  the  loneliness. 
We  marched  with  timid  steps  through  this  dismal  solitude,  often 
stopping  to  look  behind  us ;  for  our  imaginations,  overpowered  by 
the  magnitude  of  our  conquest,  made  us  every  where  apprehensive 
of  treachery." 

In  conformity  with  the  desolating  plan  of  the  campaign,  the 
ruin  of  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Czars  had  been  determined.  The 
criminals  confined  in  the  different  prisons,  received  their  liberty  on 
condition  of  setting  fire  to  the  city  as  soon  as  it  should  be  in  the 
possession  of  the  French  army.  In  order  to  insure  its  destruction, 
the  engines,  and  every  means  by  which  the  fire  might  have  been 
extinguished,  were  removed  or  destroyed.  The  Exchange  was 
the  first  building  that  fell  a  prey  to  the  flames.  The  stores  con- 
tained an  immense  quantity  of  the  most  valuable  commodities  of 
Europe  and  Asia ;  and  the  cellars  were  filled  with  sugar,  oils  and 
resin,  which  burnt  with  great  fury.  The  French  endeavored  to 
check  the  progress  of  the  devouring  element,  but  they  soon  dis- 
covered that  their  efforts  were  vain.  The  fire,  breaking  out  in 
different  quarters  of  the  city,  and  increased  by  a  high  wind,  spread 
with  dreadful  rapidity. 

"  A  great  part  of  the  population  had  concealed  themselves  in 


4  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  84 

their  houses,  from  the  terror  caused  by  our  arrival ;  but  they  left 
them  as  the  flames  reached  their  asylums.  Fear  had  rendered 
their  grief  dumb ;  and  as  they  tremblingly  quitted  tlieir  retreats, 
they  carried  off  tlieir  most  valuable  effects,  while  those  of  more 
sensibility,  actuated  by  natural  feelings,  sought  only  to  save  the 
lives  of  their  parents  or  their  children.  On  one  side  we  saw  a  son 
carrying  a  sick  father  ;  on  the  other,  women  who  poured  the  tor- 
rent of  their  tears  on  the  infants  whom  they  clasped  in  ^eir  arms. 
They  were  followed  by  the  rest  of  tlieir  children,  who,  fearful  of 
being  lost,  ran  crying  af\er  their  mothers.  Old  men,  overwhelmed 
more  by  grief  than  by  the  weig^l  of  years,  were  seldom  able  to 
follow  their  families  ;  and  many  of  them,  weeping  for  the  ruin  of 
their  country,  lay  down  to  die  near  the  houses  where  they  were 
bom.  The  streets,  the  public  squares,  and  especially  the  churches, 
were  crowded  witli  these  unliappy  persons,  who  mourned  as  they 
lay  on  the  remains  of  their  property,  but  sliowed  no  signs  of  de- 
spair. The  victors  and  tlie  vanquished  were  become  equally 
brutish ;  the  former  by  excess  of  fortune,  the  latter  by  excess  of 
misery. 

"  The  hospitals,  containing  more  than  twelve  thousand 
WOUNDED,  began  at  length  to  bum.  The  heart  recoils  at  the 
disaster  which  ensued.  Almost  all  those  wretched  victims  per- 
ished !  The  few  still  living,  were  seen  crawling,  half-burnt,  from 
the  smoking  ashes,  or  groaning  under  the  heaps  of  dead  bodies, 
and  making  ineffectual  efforts  to  extricate  themselves ! 

"  It  is  impossible  to  depict  the  confusion  and  tumult  that  en- 
sued, when  the  whole  of  this  immense  city  was  given  up  to  pillage. 
Soldiers,  sutlers,  galley-slaves  and  prostitutes,  ran  through  tJie 
streets,  penetrated  tlie  deserted  palaces,  and  carried  off  every, 
thing  that  could  gratify  their  insatiable  desire.  The  generals 
received  orders  to  quit  Moscow  ;  and  the  soldiers,  no  longer  re- 
strained by  tliat  awe  which  is  always  inspired  by  the  presence  of 
their  chiefs,  gave  themselves  up  to  every  excess,  and  to  the  most 
unbridled  licentiousness.  No  retreat  was  safe,  no  place  suffi- 
ciently sacred,  to  secure  it  from  tlieir  rapacious  search.  To  all 
the  excesses  of  lust,  were  added  the  highest  depravity  and  de- 
bauchery. No  respect  was  paid  to  tlie  nobility  of  blood,  the  inno^ 
cence  of  youth,  or  the  tears  of  beauty. 

"  Dismayed  by  so  many  calamities,  I  hoped  that  the  shades  of 
night  would  veil  the  dreadful  scene; -but  darkness,  on  the  con- 
trary, rendered  the  conflagration  more  terrible.  The  flames,  which 
extended  from  north  to  soutli,  burst  forth  with  greater  violence, 
and,  agitated  by  the  wind,  seemed  to  reach  the  sky.  Clouds  of 
smoke  marked  the  track  of  the  rockets  that  were  hurled  by  tlie 
incendiary  criminals  from  the  tops  of  tlie  steeples,  and  which,  at  a 
distance,  resembled  falling  stars.  But  notliing  was  so  terrific  as 
the  dread  that  reigned  in  every  mind,  a>id  which  was  heightened 
in  tlie  dead  of  the  night  by  Uie  shrieks  of  tlie  unfortunate  creatures 
who  were  massacred,  or  by  the  cries  of  young  females  who  fled 
for  refuge  to  the  palpitating  bosoms  of  their  mothers,  and  whose 


85  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  5 

ineffectual  struggles  only  served  to  inflame  the  passions  of  their 
violators.  Many  of  our  soldiers  fell  victims  to  their  own  rapacity, 
which  induced  them  to  brave  every  danger.  Excited  by  the  love 
of  plunder,  they  rushed  into  the  midst  of  the  fire  and  smoke, 
wading  in  blood,  and  trampling  on  the  dead  bodies,  while  the 
ruins  and  pieces  of  burning  wood  fell  upon  their  murderous  hands. 
Perhaps  all  would  have  perished,  had  not  the  insupportable  heat 
at  length  compelled  them  to  take  refuge  in  their  camp." 

"  The  French  troops,  as  they  poured  into  the  devoted  city,"  says 
Porter,  "  had  spread  tliemselves  in  every  direction  in  search  of 
plunder ;  and  in  their  progress  they  committed  outrages  so  horrid 
on  the  persons  of  all  whom  they  discovered,  that  fathers,  desperate 
to  save  their  children  from  pollution,  would  set  fire  to  their  places 
of  refuge,  and  find  a  surer  asylum  in  the  flames.  The  streets,  the 
houses,  the  cellars,  flowed  with  blood,  and  were  filled  with  viola- 
tion and  carnage." 

"  Part  of  our  troops,"  continues  Labaume,  "  took  up  tlieir  quarters 
(Sept  ]  7)  at  the  castle  of  Peterskoe ;  and  on  their  march,  they  over- 
took crowds  of  inliabitants  carrying  off"  tlieir  infinn  parents,  with 
all  they  had  rescued  from  their  burning  houses.  Their  horses 
having  been  taken  from  them  by  the  troops,  men,  and  even  women, 
were  harnessed  to  the  carts  which  contained  the  wrecks  of  their 
property,  and  the  dearest  objects  of  their  affection.  Those  inter- 
esting groups  were  accompanied  by  children  who  were  nearly 
naked,  and  whose  countenances  were  imprinted  with  a  sorrow 
uncongenial  to  tlieir  age.  If  the  soldiers  approached  them,  they 
ran  crying  to  tlirow  themselves  into  their  mothers'  arms.  Without 
assistance  or  shelter,  they  wandered  in  the  fields,  or  took  refuge  in 
the  woods. 

"  After  the  lapse  of  more  than  a  month  from  our  entrance  into 
Moscow,  tlie  order  for  retreat  was  given  ;  and  on  tlie  22d  of  Octo- 
ber, Moscow  was  completely  evacuated.  On  the  24th,  the  Rus- 
sians attacked  us  at  Malo  Jaroslavetz ;  and  the  battle,  which 
began  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  lasted  till  nine  at  night. 
The  next  day,  the  town  was  no  longer  standing,  and  we  could 
discover  the  streets  only  by  the  heaps  of  dead  bodies  with  which 
they  were  strewed.  On  all  sides  we  saw  human  heads  and  scat- 
tered limbs  crushed  by  tlie  artillery  that  had  passed  over  them. 
Many  of  the  sick  and  wounded  had  quitted  the  fight  to  take  refuge 
in  the  houses,  which  were  now  reduced  to  heaps  of  ruins,  and 
under  the  burning  ashes  appeared  their  half-consumed  remains. 
The  few  who  had  escaped  the  flames,  having  their  faces  blackened, 
and  their  clothes  and  hair  burnt,  presented  themselves  before  us, 
and  in  an  expiring  tone  uttered  cries  of  the  deepest  anguish.  On 
seeing  them,  the  most  ferocious  were  moved  with  compassion,  and, 
turning  away  ttieir  eyes,  could  not  refrain  from  tears. 

"  As  we  advanced,  (Oct.  30,)  the  country  appeared  yet  more 
desolate.  The  fields,  trampled  by  thousands  of  horses,  seemed  as 
though  they  had  never  been  cultivated  ;  and  the  forests,  thinned 
by  the  long  residence  of  the  troops,  partook  of  the  devastation. 


6  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  86 

But  the  most  horrible  sight  was  the  multitude  of  dead  bodies, 
which-  had  been  fifty-two  days  unburied,  and  scarcely  retained  the 
human  form.  My  consternation  was  at  its  height  on  finding,  near 
Borodino,  the  80,000  men  who  had  been  slaughtered  there,  lying 
where  they  fell.  The  half-buried  carcasses  of  men  and  horses 
covered  the  plain,  intermingled  with  garments  stained  with  blood, 
and  bones  gnawed  by  the  dogs  and  birds  of  prey,  and  with  the 
fragments  of  arms,  drums,  helmets  and  cuirasses. 

"  Were  I  to  relate  all  the  calamities  that  sprung  from  this 
atrocious  war,  my  narrative  would  be  too  long ;  but  if  I  wished 
fh)m  one  instance  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  rest,  it  would  be  from 
that  of  the  three  thousand  prisoners  we  brought  from  Moscow. 
During  tlie  march,  ha\'ing  no  provisions  to  give  them,  they  were 
herded  together  like  beasts,  and  were  not  allowed  on  any  pretext 
to  quit  the  narrow  limits  assigned  them.  Without  fire,  perishing 
with  cold,  they  lay  on  the  bare  ice.  To  appease  their  ravenous 
nunger,  they  seized  with  avidity  the  horse-flesh  which  was  dis- 
tributed to  them,  and  for  want  of  time  and  means  to  dress  it^  ate  it 
quite  raw  ;  and  I  have  been  assured,  though  I  dare  not  believe  it, 
^at  when  this  supply  failed,  many  of  them  ate  the  flesh  of  their 
comrades  who  had  sunk  under  their  miseries. 

"  Whilst  the  retreating  army  drank  the  cup  of  unmingled  gall, 
its  course  was  marked  by  outrages  of  unrestrained  cruelty  and 
vindictive  rage.  The  first  division,  on  leaving  the  quarters  where 
they  had  slept  tlie  preceding  night,  generally  consigned  them  to 
the  flames,  as  well  as  tiie  towns  and  villages  through  which  they 
passed.  The  few  houses  that  escaped  their  ravages,  were  burnt 
by  the  second  division ;  and  in  the  ruins  were  entombed  soldiers 
and  peasants,  children  wantonly  murdered,  and  young  girls  mas- 
sacred on  the  spot  where  they  had  been  violated.  For  one  hun- 
dred and  fift:y  miles  from  Moscow,  not  a  single  building  was  left 
undemolished ! " 

Passage  of  the  Vop,  Nov.  8. — "  The  bed  of  the  river  was 
choked  by  tlie  carriages,  cannon,  and  the  numerous  bodies  of 
men  and  horses  drowned  in  attempting  the  passage.  The  cries 
of  those  who  were  crossing ;  the  consternation  of  others  who 
were  preparing  to  cross,  and  were  every  moment  precipitated  with 
their  horses  down  the  steep  and  slippery  bank  into  the  stream  ;  the 
distraction  of  the  women,  the  screams  of  the  children,  and  the 
despair  of  even  the  soldiers,  rendered  this  passage  a  scene  so 
aflfiicting,  that  the  remembrance  is  still  dreadful  to  those  who 
witnessed  it 

"  Our  soldiers  had  scarcely  quitted  the  river,  when  the  Cossacks, 
no  longer  meeting  any  obstacles,  advanced  to  where  they  found 
many  poor  wretches  who  from  the  state  of  tlieir  health  had  not 
been  able  to  cross  the  river.  Although  our  enemies  were  sur- 
rounded with  booty,  they  stript  their  prisoners,  and  left:  them  naked 
on  the  snow.  From  the  opposite  bank  we  saw  these  Tartars 
dividing  their  bloody  spoils. 

"  The  last  night  hsid  been  dreadful.    To  form  an  idea  of  its 


87  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  7 

rigors,  it  is  necessary  to  conceive  an  army  encamped  on  the  snow, 
in  the  depth  of  a  severe  winter,  pursued  by  an  enemy  to  whom  it 
could  oppose  no  effective  resistance.  The  soldiers,  without  shoes, 
and  almost  destitute  of  clothing,  were  enfeebled  by  hunger  and 
fatigue.  Seated  on  tlieir  knapsacks,  they  slept  on  their  knees. 
From  this  benumbing  posture  they  rose  only  to  broil  a  few  slices 
of  horse-flesh,  or  to  melt  some  pieces  of  ice.  They  were  often 
without  wood,  and  to  keep  up  a  fire,  demolished  the  houses  in 
which  tlie  generals  were  lodged.  When  we  awoke  in  tlie  morn- 
ing, the  village  had  disappeared ;  and  in  this  manner  towns  that 
were  standing  entire  in  the  evening,  formed  the  next  day  one  vast 
conflagration." 

Nov.  15. — "Whole  teams,  sinking  under  their  fatigues,  fell 
together,  and  obstructed  the  way.  More  tlian  thhiy  thousand  Jwrses 
perished  in  a  few  days.  All  the  defiles  that  were  impassable  for 
tlie  carriages,  were  strewed  with  arms,  helmets,  cuirasses,  broken 
trunks,  portmanteaus,  and  clothes  of  every  kind.  At  intervals  we 
saw  trees,  at  the  feet  of  which  the  soldiers  had  attempted  to  light 
fires,  but  had  expired  in  making  these  useless  efforts  to  warm 
themselves.  They  were  stretched  by  dozens  around  the  green 
branches  which  they  had  in  vain  endeavored  to  kindle ;  and  the 
number  of  dead  bodies  would  have  blocked  up  the  road,  if  we  had 
not  employed  men  to  throw  them  into  the  ruts  and  ditches. 

"  These  horrors,  so  far  from  exciting  our  sensibility,  only  har- 
dened our  hearts.  Having  no  longer  the  power  of  exercising  our 
cruelty  on  our  enemies,  we  turned  it  on  each  other.  The  best 
friends  were  estranged ;  and  whoever  experienced  the  least  sickness, 
was  certain  of  never  seeing  his  country  again,  unless  he  had  good 
horses  and  faithful  servants.  Preserving  the  plunder  of  Moscow 
was  preferred  by  most  to  the  pleasure  of  saving  a  comrade.  Wo 
heard  around  us  the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the  plaintive  voice 
of  those  who  were  abandoned ;  but  all  were  deaf  to  their  cries, 
and,  if  any  one  approached  them  when  on  the  point  of  death,  it 
was  for  the  purpose  of  stripping  them,  and  searching  whether  they 
had  any  remains  of  food. 

"  The  next  morning,  (Nov.  17,)  we  left  Liadoui  before  day- 
break, and  were,  according  to  custom,  lighted  by  the  fire  of  the 
buildings  which  began  to  burn.  Among  the  burning  houses  were 
three  large  barns  filled  with  poor  soldiers,  chiefly  wounded.  They 
could  not  escape  from  two  of  these,  without  passing  through  the 
one  in  front,  which  was  on  fire.  The  most  active  saved  themselves 
by  leaping  out  of  the  windows  ;  but  all  those  who  were  sick  or 
crippled,  not  having  strength  to  move,  saw  the  flamed  advancing 
rapidly  to  devour  them.  Touched  by  their  shrieks,  some,  who 
were  least  hardened,  endeavored  in  vain  to  save  them ;  but  we 
could  scarcely  see  them  half  buried  under  the  burning  rafters. 
Through  whirlwinds  of  smoke,  tliey  entreated  us  to  shorten  their 
sufferings  by  depriving  them  of  life ;  and,  from  motives  of  hu- 
manity, we  thought  it  our  duty  to  comply  with  their  wishes  (! !) 
As  there  were  some  who  still  survived,  we  heard  them  with  feeble 


^  TMB    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  "BB 

voices  crying,  *Firc  on  us!  fire  onus!  at  tite  head!  at  the  head! 
donH  miss  ! '  " 

The  Passage  of  the  Berezina,  Nov.  27. — "  They  who  from 
weariness  and  ignorance  of  danger,  were  less  eager  to  cross  tlie 
river,  endeavored  to  light  a  fire,  and  to  repose  from  their  fatigues. 
In  these  bivouacs  we  saw  to  what  a  degree  of  brutality  excess  of 
misery  will  lead.  We  tliere  saw  men  fighting  for  a  morsel  of 
bread.  If  any  one,  benumbed  with  cold,  drew  near  a  fire,  the 
soldiers  to  whom  it  belonged  inhumanly  drove  him  away ;  and, 
if  a  parching  thirst  forced  you  to  beg  a  drop  of  water  from  hun 
who  had  a  full  bowl,  the  refusal  was  always  accompanied  with 
abuse.  We  often  heard  even  men  of  education,  who  had  been 
friends,  quarrelling  for  a  handful  of  straw,  or  for  a  part  of  the  dead 
horse  they  were  attempting  to  cut  up.  This  campaign  was  the 
more  frightful,  as  it  demoralized  our  characters,  and  gave  birth  to 
vices  till  then  unknown  to  us  ;  they  who  had  been  generous,  hu- 
mane and  upright,  became  selfish,  avaricious,  cruel  and  unjust 

"  There  were  two  bridges,  one  for  the  carriages,  tlie  other  for 
tlie  infantry ;  but  the  crowd  Avas  so  great,  and  the  approaches  so 
dangerous,  that  tlie  tlirong  collected  on  tlie  bank  of  the  Berezina, 
became  incapable  of  moving.  In  spite  of  these  difficulties,  some 
who  were  on  foot  saved  themselves  by  tlieir  perseverance ;  but 
about  8  o'clock  in  tlie  morning,  the  bridge  reserved  for  tlie  car- 
riages liaving  broken  down,  tlie  baggage  and  artillery  advanced  to 
the  other,  and  attempted  to  force  a  passage.  Then  began  a  fright- 
ful contest  between  tlie  infantry  and  tlie  cavalry,  in  which  many 
of  them  perished  by  tlie  hands  of  their  comrades ;  and  a  still  greater 
number  were  suffocated  at  the  foot  of  the  bridge,  where  the  car- 
casses of  men  and  horses  obstructed  the  road  to  such  a  degree, 
that  to  approach  the  river,  it  was  necessary  to  climb  over  tlie 
bodies  of  tliose  who  had  been  crushed.  Some  of  tliem  were  still 
alive,  and  stniggling  in  the  agonies  of  d«ath.  In  order  to  extricate 
themselves,  tliey  caught  hold  of  those  who  were  marching  over 
them  ;  but  the  latter  disengaged  themselves  with  violence,  and 
trampled  them  under  their  feet.  Whilst  they  contended  with  so 
much  fury,  the  following  multitude,  like  a  raging  wave,  mcessantjy 
overwhelmed  fresh  victims. 

"  In  the  midst  of  this  dreadful  confusion,  tlie  Russians  made  a 
furious  attack  on  the  rear-guard  ;  and  in  the  heat  of  the  engage- 
ment, many  balls  fell  on  the  miserable  crowd  that  for  three  days 
had  been  pressing  round  the  bridge,  and  even  some  shells  burst  in 
the  midst  of  them.  TeiTor  and  despair  then  took  possession  of 
every  heart  anxious  for  self-preservation ;  women  and  children, 
who  had  escaped  so  many  disasters,  seemed  to  have  been  pre- 
served to  experience  a  death  still  more  deplorable.  Leaving  their 
carriages,  tliey  ran  to  embrace  the  knees  of  tlie  first  person  they 
met,  and  implored  him  with  teai-s  to  take  them  to  tlie  otlier  side. 
The  sick  and  wounded,  seated  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  or  supported 
on  crutches,  looked  eagerly  for  some  friend  tliat  could  assist  them ; 
but  their  cries  were  lost  in  the  air, — every  one  thought  only  of 
his  own  safety. 


89  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  9 

"  On  seeing  the  enemy,  those  who  had  not  crossed,  mingling 
vrith  the  Poles,  rushed  towards  the  bridge;  artillery,  baggage, 
cavalry  and  infantry,  all  endeavored  to  pass  first.  The  strong 
threw  the  weak  into  the  water,  and  trampled  under  foot  the  sick 
and  wounded  whom  they  found  in  their  way.  Many  hundreds  were 
crushed  under  the  wheels  of  the  artillery  5  and  others,  who  had 
hoped  to  save  themselves  by  swimming,  were  frozen  or  drowned 
in  the  river.  Thousands  and  thousands  of  hopeless  victims,  not- 
withstanding these  sorrowful  examples,  threw  themselvea^  into  the 
Berezina,  where  they  nearly  all  perished  in  convulsions  of  grief 
and  despair. 

"  The  division  of  Girard  succeeded  by  force  of  arms  in  over- 
coming all  the  obstacles  that  retarded  their  march,  and,  scaling  the 
mountain  of  dead  bodies  that  obstructed  the  road,  gained  the  op- 
posite shore,  where  the  Russians  would  soon  have  followed  them, 
if  they  had  not  immediately  set  fire  to  the  bridge. 

"  Many  of  those  who  were  lefl  on  the  other  bank  with  the  pros- 
pect of  the  most  horrible  death,  attempted  to  cross  the  bridge 
through  the  flames ;  but  midway  they  threw  themselves  into  the 
river  to  avoid  being  burnt.  At  length,  the  Russians  having  made 
themselves  masters  of  the  field  of  battle,  our  troops  retired ;  the 
passage  of  the  river  ceased,  and  the  most  tremendous  uproar  was 
succeeded  by  a  death-like  silence. 

"  It  was  now  December.  The  cold  was  intense ;  the  wind 
howled  frightfully  ;  and,  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  the  darkness 
was  illumined  by  the  numerous  fires  of  the  enemy  who  occupied 
the  hills  of  Zembin.  At  the  feet  of  these  heights,  groaned  our 
companions,  devoted  to  death  ;  nevei:  had  they  experienced  mo- 
ments so  dreadful  as  on  this  disastrous  night.  All  the  horrors  that 
can  be  conceived  by  the  imagination,  would  convey  but  a  faint 
impression  of  what  they  endured.  The  elements,  let  loose, 
seemed  to  have  combined  to  afflict  all  nature,  and  to  chastise  man. 
The  conquerors  and  the  conquered  were  overwhelmed  with  suf- 
ferings. The  former,  however,  had  enormous  piles  of  burning 
wood,  whilst  the  latter  had  neither  fire  nor  shelter ;  their  groans 
alone  indicated  the  spot  that  contained  so  many  unfortunate 
victims. 

"  At  every  step  (Dec.  5)  we  saw  brave  officers  supported  on 
pine  branches,  covered  with  rags,  with  their  hair  and  beards 
matted  with  icicles.  Those  warriors,  once  the  terror  of  our  ene- 
mies, and  the  conquerors  of  two-thirds  of  Europe,  having  lost  their 
noble  mien,  dragged  themselves  slowly  along,  and  could  not  ob- 
tain a  look  of  pity  even  from  the  soldiers  they  had  commanded. 
Their  situation  was  the  more  deplorable,  as  whoever  had  not 
strength  to  march,  was  abandoned ;  and  every  one  who  was  aban- 
doned, in  one  hour  afterwards  was  a  dead  man.  Every  bivouac 
presented  us  the  next  day  with  the  appearance  of  a  field  of  battle. 
Whenever  a  soldier  sunk  from  fatigue,  his  next  neighbor  rushed 
on  him,  and  stripped  him  of  his  clothes,  even  before  he  was  dead. 
Every  moment  we  heard  them  begging  the  aid  of  some  charitable 


10  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  90 

hand.  *  My  comrades,'  exclaimed  one  with  a  heart-rending  voice, 
*  help  me  to  rise  ;  deign  to  lend  me  a  hand  to  pursue  my  marcK' 
All  passed  by  without  even  regarding  him.  '  Ah,  I  conjure  you 
not  to  abandon  me  to  tlie  enemy  ;  in  the  name  of  humanity  grant 
me  the  trifling  assistance  I  ask ;  help  me  to  rise.'  Instead  of  being 
moved  by  a  prayer  se  touching,  they  considered  him  as  already 
dead,  and  began  to  strip  him  ;  and  then  we  heard  his  cries,  '  Help ! 
help !  they  murder  me !  Why  do  you  trample  me  under  your  feet  ? 
Why  do  you  take  from  me  the  remainder  of  my  money  and  my 
bread  ?  You  even  take  away  my  clothes  ! '  If  some  officer,  urged 
by  generous  feelings,  did  not  arrive  in  time  to  prevent  it,  many  in 
fhe  like  situation  would  have  been  assassinated  by  tlieir  own 
comrades. 

"  The  road  was  covered  (Dec.  8)  witli  soldiers  who  no  longer 
retained  the  human  form,  and  whom  the  enemy  disdained  to  take 
prisoners.  Every  day  furnished  scenes  too  painful  to  relate.  Some 
had  lost  their  hearing,  others  their  speech,  and  many,  by  excessive 
cold  and  hunger,  were  reduced  to  such  a  state  of  stupid  frenzy, 
that  they  roasted  the  dead  bodies  for  food,  and  even  gnawed  their 
own  hands  and  arms.  Some,  who  were  too  weak  to  lift  a  piece 
of  wood,  or  to  roll  a  stone  towards  the  fire,  sat  down  upon  their 
dead  companions,  and  with  an  unmoved  countenance,  gazed  upon 
the  burning  logs.  When  they  were  consumed,  tliese  livid  spec- 
tres, unable  to  get  up,  fell  by  the  side  of  those  on  whom  tliey  had 
been  seated.  Many,  in  a  state  of  delirium,  plunged  their  bare 
feet  into  the  fire  just  to  warm  themselves ;  some,  with  a  convulsive 
laugh,  threw  themselves  into  the  flames,  and  witli  shocking  cries, 
perished  in  the  most  horrible  contortions ;  while  others,  in  a  state 
of  equal  madness,  followed  their  example,  and  shared  the  same 
fate ! "  "  Multitudes,"  says  Porter,  "  lost  their  speech,  others  were 
seized  witli  frenzy,  and  many  were  sO  maddened  by  the  extremes 
of  pain  and  hunger,  that  they  tore  the  dead  bodies  of  their  com- 
rades into  pieces,  and  feasted  on  the  remains ! " 

"Every  day's  march,"  adds  Labaume,  "presented  us  with  a 
repetition  of  the  mournful  scenes  I  have  faintly  sketched.  Our 
hearts.  Completely  hardened  by  such  disgusting  pictures,  lost  all 
sensibility.  We  were  reduced  to  a  state  of  brutality  that  left  us 
no  feeling  but  the  instinct  of  self-preservation." 

Thus  far  Labaume,  an  eye-witness  of  all  he  relates ;  and  Alison, 
in  his  history  of  the  same  campaign,  quotes  statements  not  less 
terribly  graphic.  "  On  Sunday  forenoon  I  found  a  crowd  collected 
round  a  car  in  which  some  wounded  soldiers  had  just  returned 
from  Russia.  No  grenade  or  grape  could  have  so  disfigured  these 
victims  of  the  cold.  One  of  tliem  had  lost  the  upper  joints  of  all 
his  ten  fingers,  and  he  showed  us  the  stumps.  Another  wanted 
both  ears  and  nose.  More  horrible  still  was  the  look  of  a  third, 
whose  eyes  had  been  frozen ;  the  eyelids  hung  down  rotting,  the 
globes  of  the  eyes  were  burst,  and  protruded  from  tlieir  sockets. 
It  was  awfully  hideous ;  but  a  spectacle  yet  more  dreadful  was  to 
present  itself.    Out  of  the  straw  in  the  bottom  of  a  car,  I  now 


91  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN.  11 

beheld  a  figure  creep  painfully,  which  one  could  scarcely  believe 
to  be  a  human  being,  so  wild  and  distorted  were  the  features ;  the 
lips  were  rotted  away,  and  the  teeth  stood  exposed ;  he  pulled 
the  cloth  from  before  his  mouth,  and  grinned  upon  us  like  a 
death's  head." 

"  The  battle  of  Eylau  was  fought  in  the  depth  of  winter,  amidst 
ice  and  snow,  under  circumstances  of  unexampled  horror.  The 
loss  on  both  sides  was  immense  ;  and  never  in  modern  times  had 
a  field  of  battle  been  strewn  with  such  a  multitude  of  slain.  On 
the  side  of  the  Russians  25,000  had  fallen,  of  whom  above  7000 
were  already  no  more  ;  on  that  of  the  French,  upwards  of  30,000 
were  killed  or  wounded,  and  nearly  10,000  had  left  their  colors, 
under  pretence  of  attending  to  the  wounded.  Never  was  a  spec- 
tacle so  dreadful  as  the  field  presented  on  the  following  morning. 
Above  50,000  men  lay  in  the  space  of  two  leagues,  weltering  in 
blood.  The  wounds  were,  for  the  most  part,  of  the  severest  kind, 
from  the  extraordinary  quantity  of  cannon  balls  which  had  been 
discharged  during  the  action,  and  the  close  proximity  of  the  con- 
tending masses  to  the  deadly  batteries  which  spread  their  grape  at 
half-musket  shot  through  their  ranks.  Though  stretched  on  the 
cold  snow,  and  exposed  to  the  severity  of  an  arctic  winter,  they 
were  burning  with  thirst,  and  piteous  cries  were  heard  on  all  sides 
for  water,  or  assistance  to  extricate  the  wounded  from  the  heaps 
of  slain,  or  the  load  of  horses  by  which  they  were  crushed.  Six 
thousand  of  tliese  noble  animals  encumbered  the  field,  or,  mad- 
dened with  pain,  were  shrieking  aloud  amid  the  stifled  groans  of 
the  wounded." 

Thus  far  we  have  sketched  almost  exclusively  the  losses  of  the 
French  and  their  allies ;  nor  did  the  Russian  army  fare  much  better. 
During  their  retreat,  a  ducat,  then  worth  five  dollars,  was  thank- 
fully given  for  a  single  horse-shoe  ;  and  so  fatal  were  the  com- 
bined effects  of  hardship,  disease  and  battle,  that  the  Russians  lost 
in  some  cases  three-fourths,  and  in  others  nearly  nine-tenths  of 
their  troops  !  Some  entire  battalions  did  not  retain  fifty  men,  and 
many  companies  were  left  without  a  single  one  !  A  mere  fraction 
of  the  victims  perished  by  the  sword ;  and,  as  the  final  result  to 
the  Russians,  their  army,  amounting  at  the  commencement  of  the 
campaign  to  hundreds  of  thousands,  could  muster  at  tlie  close  only 
eighteen  thousand ! ! 

All  this  besides  the  unreckoned  and  well-nigh  countless  victims 
among  the  people.  The  number  of  these,  it  would  be  vain  to 
conjecture  ;  but  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  as  well  as  'from  what 
we  have  already  quoted,  it  must  have  been  immense.  The  state- 
ments of  Labaume  are  terrible ;  and  their  truth  is  fully  confirmed 
by  such  writers  as  Sir  Robert  Wilson,  who  says,  "  in  the  roads, 
men  were  collected  round  the  burning  ruins  of  their  cottages, 
which  a  mad  spirit  of  destruction  had  fired,  picking  and  eating  the 
burnt  bodies  of  fellow  men,  while  thousands  of  horses  were  moan- 
ing in  agony,  with  then*  flesh  mangled  and  hacked  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  a  hunger  that  knew  no  pity.    In  many  of  the  sheds, 


13  THE    RUSSIAN    CAMPAIGN  92 

men  scarcely  alive,  had  heaped  on  their  frozen  bodies  human  car- 
casses which,  festering  by  the  communication  of  animal  heat,  had 
mingled  the  dying  and  the  dead  in  one  mass  of  putrefaction." 

Such  is  war ; — war  not  by  pagans  or  savages,  but  by  men  call- 
ing themselves  Christians  ;  war  not  in  the  dark  ages,  but  in  the 
nineteenth  century ;  war  in  tlie  perfection  of  its  skill,  and  the  zenith 
of  its  glory  ; — a  campaign  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-three  days 
in  the  heart  of  Christendom !  What  is  the  result  ?  Of  five  hun- 
dred thousand  men  who  started  under  Napoleon,  scarcely  twenty 
thousand  returned,  so  that  the  French  alone  must  have  lost,  in 
soldiei-s  and  attendants,  full  half  a  million;  and,  should  we  reckon 
tlie  loss  of  the  Russian  army  but  half  as  great,  and  suppose  only 
an  equal  number  of  incidental  victims  among  the  people,  both  of 
which  estimates  are  probably  much  below  the  truth,  we  reach  the 
astounding  result  of  more  tJian  a  million  lives  sacrificed  in  less 
than  sir  months  of  a  single  campaign  ! ! 

t  But  the  Russian  campaign  was  only  one  of  the  many  wars  con- 
sequent on  the  French  Revolution.  During  those  wars,  the  levies 
of  soldiers  in  France  exceeded  four  millions^  and  not  less  than 
three  millions  of  these,  on  tlie  lowest  calculation,  perished  in  tlie 
field,  tlie  hospital  or  the  bivouac.  If  to  tliese  we  add,  as  wc  un- 
questionably must,  at  least  an  equal  number  out  of  tlie  ranks  of 
their  antagonists,  it  is  clear  that  not  less  than  six  millions  of  human 
beings  perished  by  war  in  the  course  of  twenty  years,  in  the  very 
heart  of  civilized  Europe,  at  the  commencement  of  the  nineteendfi 
century  of  the  Christian  era !  But  even  these  stupendous  num- 
bers give  us  no  adequate  idea  of  the  destruction  of  human  life 
directly  consequent  on  the  wars  of  the  revolution  and  the  empire. 
We  must  add  the  thousands  who  perished  from  want,  outrage  and 
exposure,  and  the  hundreds  of  thousands  who  were  subsequently 
swept  away  by  tlie  ravages  of  that  pestilence  which  took  its  rise 
amid  the  retreat  from  Russia,  and  the  crowded  garrisons  of  tlie 
campaign  of  1813,  and  for  several  years  afterwards  desolated  in 
succession  every  country  of  Europe.  And  even  when  we  have 
summed  up  and  laid  before  us,  in  all  the  magnitude  of  figures,  tlie 
appalling  destruction  of  life  here  exhibited,  we  can  still  gather 
only  a  faint  conceptionl)f  the  sufierings  and  the  evils  inflicted  by 
this  awful  scourge. 

Patriots,  philanthropists.  Christians,  must  such  a  custom  still 
continue  ?  Is  there  no  remedy  ?  Yes,  a  sovereign  one  that  needs 
only  a  right  application.  The  gospel,  rightly  applied,  would  put 
an  end  to  tlie  atrocities  and  horrors  of  war  forever.  Will  you  not 
then  aid  in  making  such  an  application  without  delay  ?  In  this 
work  are  Peace  Societies  engaged ;  and  will  you  not  give  them 
ail  the  countenance  and  support  in  your  power  ? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


■•'•■'*  **  *^"  '  No.  xi. 

UNION    IN    PEACE, 

OR 
THE    BASIS    OF    CO-OPERATION    IN    THE    CAUSE    OF    PEACE. 


Union  is  indispensable  to  every  cause,  but  to  none  more  so 
than  to  that  of  peace.  Aiming  at  the  entire  abolition  of  war,  a 
custom  wrought  from  time  immemorial  into  the  texture  of  every 
society  and  government  on  earth,  it  obviously  requires  the  co-ope- 
ration of  all  that  desire,  for  any  reason,  to  see  an  end  put  to  a 
scourge  so  terrible.  The  difficulty  of  securing  such  co-operation, 
arises  mostly  from  the  diversity  of  views  among  its  friends.  Some 
of  them  are  extremely  radical,  avowing  the  unlawfulness  of  all 
physical  force,  and  denying  the  right  of  one  man  to  punish,  coerce, 
or  even  rule  another ; — positions  to  which  no  peace  society  has 
ever  been  committed,  and  which  our  own  has  always  regarded  as 
foreign  to  its  object.  Others,  assuming  the  strict  inviolability  of 
human  life,  oppose  war  mainly  as  a  wholesale  violation  of  this 
simple,  comprehensive  principle ; — a  principle  adopted  by  a  por- 
tion of  the  friends  of  peace,  but  never  recognized  by  the  leading 
peace  societies  as  the  basis  of  our  cause.  A  third  class,  outnum- 
bering both  the  former,  discard  this  principle,  yet  deem  all  war 
contrary  to  the  gospel ; — the  ground  taken  by  those  societies  which 
are  esteemed  the  most  radical.  There  is  still  a  fourth  class, 
probably  more  numerous  than  all  the  foregoing,  who  think  it 
right  for  nations  to  draw  the  sword  in  strict  self-defence,  that  is, 
when  their  only  alternative  is  to  kill  or  be  killed,  yet  hold  the  cus- 
tom itself  in  deep  abhorrence,  and  sincerely  desire  its  abolition. 

Here,  then,  are  four  classes  of  peace-men ;  and  we  need  the 
co-operation  of  them  all ;  but  how  can  we  secure  it  ?  By  con- 
structing a  platform  on  which  they  can  all  consistently  work  to- 
gether for  the  accomplishment  of  their  common  purpose — the  abo- 
lition of  war.  On  this  point  alone,  they  perfectly  agree ;  and, 
since  their  object  is  the  same,  we  propose  to  let  them  all  labor  for 
it,  each  in  his  own  way,  without  making  one  responsible  for  the 
views  of  another. 

Let  us  learn  wisdom  from  enterprises  of  a  kindred  nature.  The 
friends  of  humanity,  when  united  for  the  suppression  of  the  slave- 
trade,  labored  for  that  as  their  only  object ;  and  all  the  doctrines 
they  taught,  as  well  as  their  efforts  of  every  kind,  were  so  many 
means  to  that  end.  Their  aim  was  not  to  propagate  a  sentiment, 
but  to  produce  a  result ;  and,  in  reaching  that  result,  they  wielded 
as  instruments  a  great  variety  of  principles.  So  the  friends  of 
temperance  aim  only  at  a  result.  True,  we  hear  much  about  the 
doctrine  of  temperance ;  but  what  does  it  mean  ?  Solely  abstinence 
from  intoxicating  drinks  ; — not  strictly  a  doctrine,  but  a  deed  ;  not 
theory,  but  practice,  or  theory  carried  into  practice.    It  is  not  the 

p.  T.      NO.  XI. 


3  UNION    IN    PEACE.  94 

object  of  temperance  to  teach  a  principle  or  doctrine,  but  to  pro- 
duce a  specitied  result,  tlie  entire  disuse  of  whatever  can  intoxi- 
cate ;  and  all  its  doctrines  and  facts,  all  its  arguments  and  appeals, 
are  only  so  many  means  to  this  aid. 

Just  so  in  the  cause  of  peace.  Our  sole  aim  is  the  abolUion  of 
war.  We  seek  not,  as  our  object,  to  establish  a  doctrine  or  prin- 
ciple, but  to  obtain  a  given  result.  We  use  a  variety  of  means  ; 
but  none  of  tliem  constitute  our  object  We  urge  a  multitude  of 
principles  ;  yet  none  of  tliese,  nor  all  of  them  together,  can  be  said 
to  be  the  end  at  which  we  aim.  That  end  is  a  result, — something 
to  be  done, — the  entire  extinction  of  war  from  the  world ;  and  all 
our  doctrines,  and  arguments,  and  facts,  and  appeals,  and  efforts 
of  every  kind,  are  only  so  many  auxiliaries  to  that  sole,  ultimate 
purpose  of  our  enterprise. 

Let  us  now  see  on  what  terms  tlio  friends  of  other  causes  have 
united.  They  have  required,  not  perfect  uniformity  of  views,  but 
only  cordial,  active  co-operAtion  for  tlie  attainment  of  their  com- 
mon object.  If  a  man  would  from  any  motives  unite  with  tliem  in 
putting  an  end  to  tlie  slave-trade  or  intemperance,  he  was  wel- 
comed as  a  coadjutor,  and  left  to  take  such  views,  and  urge  such 
arguments,  as  he  himself  felt  most,  and  therefore  thought  likely  to 
make  the  best  impression  upon  others.  Every  cast  of  mind  was 
to  be  met ;  and  hence  all  were  not  only  permitted,  but  desired  to- 
press  each  his  own  favorite  arguments  upon  men  of  kindred  stamp. 

Here  is  sound  good  sense  ;  nor  do  we  see  why  it  should  not  be 
applied  to  peace,  and  all  its  professed  friends  be  allowed  to  retain 
their  present  views,  and  still  co-operate  for  their  common  object. 
There  are  points  of  coincidence  between  them  sufficient  for  this 
purpose.  They  are  one  in  their  desires  for  the  abolition  of  war  ; 
they  agree  in  most  of  their  views  touching  peace,  and  differ  only 
on  one  or  two  points  ;  they  would,  in  laboring  for  their  common 
cause,  use  essentially  the  same  means ;  and  tlie  diversity  in  their 
modes  of  exliibiting  tlie  subject,  is  in  fact  necessary  to  reach  with 
tlie  best  effect  all  the  variety  of  minds  that  we  wish  to  enlist 

Let  us  illustrate  this  last  thought  One  man,  deeply  impressed 
witli  the  superiority  of  moral  over  physical  power,  and  conceiving 
Christianity  to  be  a  system  of  moral  influences  for  the  good  of 
mankind,  regards  all  use  of  brute  force  by  one  man  towards  an- 
other as  unchristian,  and  chooses  to  oppose  war  from  this  simple, 
fundamental,  far-reaching  principle.  It  is  indeed  a  broad  sweep 
of  generalization ;  but  such  a  mode  of  reasoning  suits  his  mind, 
and  will  perhaps  suit  some  others  equally  well.  Our  society  does 
not  adopt  tliis  principle ;  but,  if  we  have  no  responsibility  for  it,  and 
it  proves  more  successful  than  any  otlier  in  arraying  certain  minds 
against  war,  we  cannot  object  to  their  using  it  for  such  a  purpose. 

Now,  take  the  otlier  extreme.  Here  is  a  Christian  or  philan- 
thropist who  has  been  trained  to  look  upon  defensive  war  as  right ; 
nor  is  he  likely  soon,  if  ever,  to  renounce  that  belief;  yet  he  holds 
the  custom  in  deep,  unfeigned  abhorrence,  and  ardently  longs 
to  see  an  end  put  to  this  crying  sin,  and  curse,  and  shame  of 


95  UNION    IN   PEACE.  3 

Christendom.  To  this  conclusion  he  comes  from  such  views  as 
he  deems  consistent  with  the  right  of  drawing  the  sword  in  self- 
defence.  He  knows  the  guilt  and  evils  of  war.  He  deplores  its 
waste  of  property,  and  its  havoc  of  human  life ;  its  sack  of  cities, 
its  plunder  of  provinces,  and  its  devastation  of  empires  ;  its  bale- 
ful influence  on  art,  and  science,  and  general  improvement,  on 
freedom,  morality  and  religion,  on  all  tlie  great  interests  of  man- 
kind for  two  worlds  ;  its  pride  and  lust,  its  rapacity  and  revenge, 
its  wholesale  robberies  and  murders,  its  vast  and  fearful  complica- 
tion of  vices  and  crimes.  Such  aspects  of  war  rouse  him  against 
the  custom.  Still  he  does  not  regard  all  war  as  unchristian ;  and 
shall  we,  for  such  a  reason,  thrust  him  from  the  ranks  of  peace  ? 
Shall  we  make  our  views  a  test  for  him,  and  insist  that  none  shall 
labor  for  peace  except  in  our  way  ? 

Let  us  now  glance  at  the  two  intermediate  classes  of  peace-men. 
Both  believe  that  the  gospel  condemns  all  war,  but  reach  this 
conclusion  from  different  premises.  One  argues  from  the  strict 
inviolability  of  human  life  ;  a  principle  which  sweeps  away  not 
only  war,  but  capital  punishment,  and  the  right  of  government  to 
take  life  even  for  its  own  support ;  while  the  other  reasons  from 
principles  of  the  gospel  which  do  not  in  his  view  forbid  tlie  taking 
of  life  in  such  cases.  Now,  which  of  these  two  classes  shall  set 
up  their  modes  of  reasoning  as  a  standard  for  all  the  friends  of 
peace  ?  Our  society  prefers  the  latter  mode ;  but,  because  we  dislike 
his  mode,  shall  we  spurn  from  our  cause  one  who  loves  peace, 
and  hates  war  as  much  as  we  do  ?  Shall  we  let  none  oppose  war 
except  in  our  way  ?  Is  it  wise  for  Saul  to  force  his  own  armor 
upon  David,  or  for  the  stripling  shepherd  to  insist,  because  he  had 
slain  Goliath  with  his  simple  sling  and  stone,  on  arming  all  the 
hosts  of  Israel  with  that  weapon  alone  ? 

The  cause  of  peace,  then,  ought  to  be  prosecuted  with  the  same 
liberality  as  other  enterprises,  and  all  its  friends  be  permitted, 
without  rebuke  or  suspicion,  to  promote  it  in  such  ways  as  they 
respectively  prefer.  The  test  should  be,  not  the  belief  of  this  or 
that  dogma,  but  a  unllingness  to  co-operate  for  the  entire  abolition 
of  war ;  and  all  that  will  do  this,  and  just  as  far  as  they  do  it, 
should  be  regarded  as  friends  of  peace.  If  any  doctrine  be  re- 
quired as  a  test,  let  it  be  the  broad  principle  on  which  the  first 
General  Peace  Convention  in  London  (1843)  was  constituted,  viz., 
that  war  is  inconsistent  with  Chinstianity,  and  the  true  interests  of 
mankind.  We  grant  that  this  language  is  indefinite,  allowing  a 
pretty  free  play  of  the  pendulum;  but  this  is  just  what  we  want  in 
order  to  meet  the  diversity  of  opinion  among  the  friends  of  peace. 
We  can  make  it  express  the  belief  of  all  war  unchristian  ;  but  it 
pledges  us  only  to  a  condemnation  of  the  custom.  To  this  princi- 
ple there  can  be  no  objection  from  any  one  willing  to  labor  for  the 
abolition  of  war ;  and  hence  the  test  of  principle  would  in  fact  be 
the  very  test  of  action  on  which  alone  we  insist.  We  ask  men  to 
abolish  war  ;  and,  if  they  gird  themselves  in  earnest  for  this  work, 
we  would  let  them  do  it  in  their  own  way,  nor  quarrel  with  them 
about  their  motives. 


4  UNION    IN    PEACE.  96 

For  such  a  course,  it  were  easy  to  find  a  multitude  of  arguments. 
We  need  not  repeat,  that  it  is  the  same  with  that  adopted  in  all 
kindred  enterprises;  but  we  may  add,  that  it  would  relieve  the 
cause  of  peace  from  much  superfluous  responsibility,  and  many 
irrelevant  objections.  It  is  in  fact  responsible  only  for  tlie  con- 
clusion, that  war  ought  to  he  abolished ;  but  our  opponents,  the 
advocates  or  apologists  for  war,  instead  of  meeting  us  on  tliis  point 
alone,  assail  us,  for  the  most  part,  on  questions  either  extraneous 
or  unessential.  Such  issues  are  false  and  fruitless ;  for  the  only 
point  in  dispute  is  not,  whether  tlie  Bible  sanctions  civil  govern- 
ment, or  capital  punishment,  or  tlie  taking  of  life  in  any  case,  or 
the  use  of  physical  force  by  one  person  against  another,  but 
whether  war  ought  for  any  reason  to  be  abolished.  To  this  conclu- 
sion alone  is  the  cause  of  peace  pledged ;  nor  can  it  fairly  be  held 
accountable  for  objections  urged  against  such  modes  of  reasoning 
as  assert  the  inviolability  of  human  life,  or  conflict  with  tlie  legiti- 
mate internal  operations  of  government,  or  justify  any  kind  of  war. 

Thus  would  responsibility  be  lefl  in  every  case  to  rest  where  it 
properly  belongs.  We  do  not  ourselves  feel  bound  to  answer  objec- 
tions drawn  eiUier  from  tlie  advocacy  of  defensive  war,  or  from  that 
species  of  non-resistance  which  denounces  all  forms  of  human 
government.  We  do  not  argue  against  war  from  either  of  these 
extremes  ;  and  only  thpse  who  do,  should  be  held  responsible  for 
them.  The  same  might  be  said  of  other  modes  of  reasoning ;  let 
those  who  use  them,  meet  tlieir  appropriate  objections.  The 
cause  of  peace  is  not  accountable  for  any  of  them,  because  none 
of  them  are  essential  to  its  sole  aim.  Whatever  may  be  thought 
of  any  arguments  used  by  its  friends,  few  will  deny  tliat  war  ought 
to  be  abolished  ;  and  for  this  conclusion  alone  is  the  cause  itself 
fairly  responsible. 

The  course  we  recommend,  would  also  secure  for  our  cause 
the  greatest  variety  of  argument  and  influence.  There  are  all 
sorts  of  minds  to  be  convinced ;  and  it  is  well  to  provide  a 
corresponding  variety  of  arguments.  No  single  class  of  peace- 
men  can  meet  the  wants  of  all.  A  few,  fond  of  elementary,  com- 
prehensive truths,  would  be  pleased  with  tlie  broad  principle,  that 
the  gospel  discards  all  physical  force  ;  but  such  logic  will  reach 
only  a  small  portion  of  mankind,  and  be  scouted  by  the  rest  as 
extreme  radicalism.  More  will  be  influenced  by  tlie  doctrine 
of  the  strict  inviolability  of  human  life ;  yet  this  principle  will 
satisfy  no  considerable  part  of  society.  The  class  of  peace- 
men  who  argue  against  all  war  from  such  precepts  of  the  gospel 
as  bid  us  love  our  enemies,  return  good  for  evil,  and  give  the  other 
cheek  to  the  smiter,  will  make  far  more  converts  ;  but  a  number 
greater  than  all  the  rest,  will  be  attracted  to  our  cause  by  those 
who  dwell  cliiefly  on  the  general  wickedness  and  evils  of  war. 
These  varieties  of  argument  converge  to  the  same  result, — Uie 
abolition  of  war ;  and  the  cause  of  peace  sliould  be  so  managed  as 
to  secure,  if  possible,  the  co-operation  of  them  all. 

Nor  can  we  discover  the  justice  of  excluding  any  class  of  peace- 


97  UNION    IN   PEACE.  5 

men.  If  any,  which  of  the  four  ?  The  high  non-resistant  who 
regards  all  human  government  as  sinful  because  resting  in  the  last 
resort  on  brute  force  ?  He  deems  himself  the  best,  if  not  the  only 
consistent  peace-man.  Shall  we  then  refuse  tlie  right  hand  of 
fellowship  to  those  who  believe  it  wrong  for  man  under  any  cir- 
stances  to  take  the  life  of  his  fellow?  Few,  if  any,  can  be  stancher 
friends  of  peace.  Shall  we  next  discard  those  who  admit  the  law- 
fulness of  taking  life  in  some  cases,  but  deem  all  war  contrary  to 
the  gospel  ?  Such  was  William  Penn  himself;  and  such  are  probably 
the  greater  part  of  our  most  active  and  efficient  friends.  Shall  we, 
in  fine,  exclude  all  that  believe  war  strictly  defensive  to  be  right, 
yet  condemn  tlie  custom  itself,  and  are  willing  to  labor  for  its  abo- 
lition ?  Then  must  we  strike  from  our  list  far  the  largest  number 
of  our  co-workers,  and  commit  the  injustice  of  supposing  them 
to  have  no  heart  for  this  enterprise  of  patriotism,  philanthropy  and 
religion.  Many  of  these  men  are  honest,  active  friends  of  our 
cause.  Such  was  Noah  Worcester  himself,  long  after  he  became 
the  pioneer  of  peace  in  modern  times.  Such,  too,  was  William 
Ladd,  who  labored  as  zealously  before  as  after  he  embraced  the 
doctrine  of  all  Avar  contrary  to  the  gospel.  Such  was  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Such  are  multitudes,  whom  we 
cannot  spurn  from  us  without  equal  injustice  to  them,  and  injury 
to  our  cause.  They  may  need  a  deeper,  clearer  insight  into  its 
pacific  principles ;  and  tlie  course  we  propose  would  be  the  like- 
liest Avay  of  bringing  them  ere-long  to  regard  all  war  as  unchris- 
tian ;  but,  should  they  never  reach  that  point,  they  may  still  render 
invaluable  aid  in  the  work  of  banishing  war  from  the  world. 

We  might,  also,  plead  general  precedent  The  friends  of  peace, 
whatever  their  theories,  have  in  fact  acted,  for  the  most  part,  on 
the  principle  for  which  we  contend.  In  America,  they  have,  with 
hardly  an  exception,  proceeded  on  the  plan  of  inviting  the  co-ope- 
ration of  all,  whatever  their  views  respecting  wars  termed  defen- 
sive, who  are  willing  to  use  means  for  abolishing  the  custom 
itself.  Such  have  been,  from  the  first,  a  vast  majority  of  our  co- 
workers ;  not  our  warmest,  but  our  real  friends ;  and,  had  we 
refused  the  co-operation  of  all  such  persons,  we  should  never  have 
even  started  in  this  enterprise,  since  its  very  originators  were  only 
moderate  peace-men.  Such,  too,  has  been  the  practice,  we  believe, 
of  all  kindred  societies  in  Europe.  So  it  should  be ;  for  tlie  strong 
friends  of  peace  are  not  its  only  friends.  Others  love  it  as  truly  as 
we  do  ;  and  Ave  deem  it  Avrong  to  deny  them  the  credit  of  unfeigned 
interest  in  tlie  cause,  or  tlie  privilege  of  an  honorable  co-operation. 

We  wish,  moreover,  to  influence  those  Avho  guide  the  helm  of 
state.  HoAv  shall  this  be  done  ?  Not  one  in  a  thousand  of  them 
deems  all  war  unchristian.  Upon  such  men  it  Avould  be  quite 
useless  to  urge  the  extreme  doctrines  of  peace  ;  and,  if  we  reach 
them  at  all,  it  must  be  through  its  moderate  friends  and  moderate 
arguments. 

Such  a  course  would,  likeAvise,  obviate  many  causes  of  jealousy 
and  collision  among  the  friends  of  peace.   All  their  strength  ought 


6  UNION   IN    PEACE.  98 

to  be  spent  against  their  common  foe  ;  but  no  small  part  of  their 
tune  and  energies  has  hitherto  been  wasted  in  disputes  among 
themselves  on  points  not  essential  to  their  object 

Nor  can  we  well  imagine  any  valid  objection  to  a  course  so 
liberal.  Shall  we  be  told,  '  it  erects  no  standajd,  fixes  no  princi- 
ple ?' — It  provides  all  the  standard,  all  the  principle  necessary  for 
NDur  purpose.  Such  a  course  goes  against  the  whole  war-system ; 
and  what  else  do  the  friends  of  peace,  as  such,  aim  to  abolish  ?  It 
goes  for  the  entire  abolition  of  war,  for  universal  and  permanent 
peace  ;  and  can  the  strongest  friend  of  our  cause  ask  for  more  ? 

'  But  such  a  course  would  not  introduce  tlie  right  standard.' — 
What  class  of  peace-men,  to  tlie  exclusion  of  all  the  rest,  shall 
determine  what  is  the  right  standard  ?  Whichever  should,  tlie 
others  might  complain ;  but  the  course  we  suggest,  would  leave 
them  all  to  urge  tlieir  respective  views  with  entire  freedom.  Thus 
every  aspect  of,  the  subject  would  be  exhibited,  all  its  arguments 
and  illustrations  exhausted ;  and  every  man's  views  would  have  a 
fair  chance,  and  ^o  for  what  different  minds  should  think  them 
worth. 

'  Such  a  course,  however,  would  be  no  reform,  because  not  in 
advance  of  present  opinion  and  practice.' — Not  indeed  beyond 
those  of  its  active  friends,  since  no  man  can  honestly  teach  what 
he  does  not  believe ;  but  it  would  set  every  one  at  work  in  his  own 
way,  and  give  to  truth  the  fairest  chance  of  triumph.  "Besides, 
there  is  on  this  subject,  as  well  as  others,  a  great  deal  of  dor- 
mant truth  now  among  the  people  ;  and  no  small  part  of  our  work 
consists  in  rendering  such  truth  effective  for  the  prevention  and 
ultimate  abolition  of  war. 

'  But  we  should  be  obliged  to  contradict  or  conceal  our  prin- 
ciples.'^By  no  means ;  for  we  allow  you  to  utter  yours  without 
restraint,  and  merely  ask  you  not  to  make  others  responsible  for 
what  they  do  not  themselves  believe.  We  would  restrict  the 
freedom  of  none.  Different  classes  of  peace-men  are  united  in 
this  cause  ;  and  we  simply  insist,  that  no  peace  society,  as  such, 
shall  endorse  for  one  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rest  All  may  equally 
plead  conscience ;  and  we  would  permit  them  all  alike  to  argue 
against  war,  each  in  his  own  way,  nor  hold  them  accountable  for 
any  views  except  their  own. 

'  Such  a  course  would  make  a  Bibel  of  our  cause.' — How  ? 
Almost  every  kindred  enterprise  has  pursue<^a  similar  course  with- 
out confusion  or  embarrassment  Did  not  Wilberforce  and  his 
coadjutors  labor  in  this  way  for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  ? 
Was  not  every  one  allowed  without  complaint  to  urge  his  own 
arguments  ?  Did  the  leaders  lay  down  a  single  principle  as  a 
criterion,  and  insist  that  none  but  believers  in  that  principle  should 
co-operate  with  them  ?  So  witli  the  friends  of  temperance.  They 
all  go  for  abstinence  from  intoxicating  drinks,  but  leave  every  man 
to  do  so  from  whatever  arguments  or  motives  he  pleases.  The 
cause  requires  union  only  in  tlie  result ;   and,  if  its  friends  all 


99  UNION   IN   PEACE.  7 

unite  in  total  abstinence,  they  may  reach  that  result  by  an  Ortho- 
dox or  a  Unitarian,  a  Protestant  or  a  Catholic  mode  of  reasoning. 

*  I  like,  however,  to  see  a  reform  reduced  to  its  simplest  ele- 
mentary principle.' — That  may  be  a  very  pleasant  and  useful  ex- 
ercise for  you ;  but  is  it  a  wise  course  for  a  reform  which  has  to 
deal  with  all  sorts  of  minds  ?  You  love  to  simplify  and  generalize ; 
but  most  persons  would  be  very  likely  to  turn  their  back  on  such 
modes  of  advocating  any  cause.  Such  a  procedure  would  also 
multiply  the  difficulties  of  reform.  Let  rne  suppose  you  arguing 
against  the  slave-trade.  Not  satisfied  with  proving  it  wrong,  you 
try  to  bring  it  under  the  condemnation  of  some  general  principle 
applicable  to  a  hundred  other  things  ;  the  principle,  if  you  please, 
that  all  love  of  money,  or  all  physical  coercion  of  men,  both  of 
which  are  so  deeply  concerned  in  that  trade,  is  unchristian. 
Your  antagonist  readily  admits  the  traffic  to  be  wrong,  but  joins 
issue  on  your  general  principle,  and  thus  compels  you  to  waste  ' 
nearly  all  your  strength  upon  what  is  not  essential  to  your  ' 
purpose.  Were  you  endeavoring  to  abolish  duelling,  would  you  ■ 
first  establish  the  principle,  that  self-defence,  or  the  taking  of 
human  life  in  any  case,  or  all  use  of  brute  force,  is  unchristian, 
and  then  forbid  the  co-operation  of  any  that  did  not*embrace  one 
or  all  of  these  principles  ?  True,  if  you  prove  either,  you  con- 
demn duelling ;  but  if  neither  is  true,  that  practice  may  still  be 
utterly  wrong.  So  in  peace.  I  prove  it  just  as  wrong  for  na- 
tions to  fight  as  it  is  for  individuals ;  but  one  strenuous  for 
simplification,  presses  me  to  know  on  what  principle  I  condemn 
war.  *  Why,  I  have  just  adduced  a  dozen  in  the  shape  of  so  ' 
many  arguments  against  it'  "  But  on  what  one  in  particular  do  - 
you  deem  it  wrong  ?  What  is  your  stand-point  ? "  If  in  repl^I  'T 
say,  that  human  life  is  inviolable,  or  that  the  gospel  discards  all  " 
physical  force,  or  forbids  my  injuring  another  for  my  own  benefit, 
he  starts  at  once  a  new  trail  of  objections,  not  against  my  sole  aim 
of  abolishing  war,  but  against  my  principle  as  applicable  in  his 
view  to  something  else  which  he  thinks  right.  He  says  it  con- 
demns capital  punishment,  and  even  subverts  all  human  govern- 
ment ;  and  thus  he  leads  me  away  from  my  sole  object  into  dis- 
putes which  have  little  or  no  connection  with  peace.  If  you  prove 
human  life  inviolable,  or  all  use  of  brute  force  unchristian,  you 
certainly  condemn  war ;  but  is  i«t  wrong  on  no  other  grounds  ?  If  it 
is,  then  let  all  that  choose,  discard  it  on  those  grounds,  nor  insist 
that  they  shall  argue  against  it  only  in  your  own  favorite  way. 

'  But  every  reform  should  have  some  fixed,  distinguishing  prin- 
ciple.'— So  it  should ;  and  such  would  our  plan  insure  to  the  cause 
of  peace.  It  is  the  principle,  that  war,  being  inconsistent  with 
Christianity,  and  the  true  interests  of  mankind,  ought  to  be  abol- 
ished. What  principle  in  any  reform  is  more  distinct,  more  intel- 
ligible, or  more  practical  than  this  ? 

'  But  we  should  carry  out  our  principles.' — So  we  should  to  the 
accomplishment  of  our  object,  but  no  farther.  Nothing  more  is 
done,  or  attempted,  or  even  permitted  in  any  enterprise  of  the  kind. 
No  principle  is  pushed  to  its  utmost  application.   Take  an  example. 


8  UNION   IN   PEACE.  100 

The  broad  principle,  lying  at  the  bottom  of  temperance,  forbids 
excessive  or  injurious  stimulation  of  our  bodies  ;  but  this  principle, 
if  carried  into  all  its  possible  applications,  would  sweep  away 
tobacco,  and  tea,  and  coffee,  and  animal  food,  and  a  multitude  of 
other  indulgences  never  embraced  in  the  temperance  reform. 
The  cause  of  peace  is  not  an  exception,  in  tliis  respect,  to  all 
others ;  nor  can  its  friends  be  reasonably  required  to  carry  any 
principle  beyond  their  single  object  of  abolishing  war. 

We  plead,  then,  for  the  cordial,  zealous  co-operation  of  all 
peace-men.  Associated  solely  for  the  abolition  of  international 
war,  they  should  be  pledged  only  to  that  end,  and  allowed  to  retain 
each  his  own  opinions,  and  to  labor  for  their  conmion  object  in  such 
ways  as  they  respectively  prefer,  without  insisting  upon  any  other 
basis  of  f  o-operation  than  the  belief,  that  war,  being  inconsistent 
with  Christianity,  and  the  true  interests  of  mankind,  ought  to  be 
abolished.  Such  a  comse  would  remove  not  a  few  obstructions, 
conciliate  a  much  larger  number  of  co-workers,  and  pave  the  way 
for  a  speedier  and  more  glorious  triumph. 

The  time  has  come  for  a  much  more  extensive  rally  in  behalf  of 
this  cause  tlian  has  ever  yet  been  made  or  attempted.  It  is  the 
grand  interest  of  the  world ;  and  its  claims  we  should  urge  upon 
every  friend  whether  of  God  or  man.  Almost  every  movement 
for  the  good  of  mankind  is  beginning  to  put  in  practice  more  or 
less  of  our  principles  ;  and  scarce  an  enterprise  of  benevolence  or 
reform,  that  might  not  be  laid  under  contribution  to  our  cause. 
Of  all  such  influences  we  should  avail  ourselves  to  the  utmost,  and 
set  the  ark  of  peace  afloat  on  this  tide  of  universal  improvement. 
We^hould  spread  our  sails  for  every  breeze  that  may  waft  us 
sooner  into  the  port  of  universal  and  permanent  peace.  We 
should  press  into  our  service  every  possible  auxiliar}^  We  need 
and  may  secure  all  the  good  influences  of  the  world.  The  age  of 
brute  force  is  fast  giving  place  to  the  era  of  moral  influence ;  and 
even  legislators  and  warriors,  the  disciples  of  Draco,  and  the  sons 
of  Mars,  are  beginning  to  learn,  even  while  clahning  the  right 
both  of  punishment  and  of  war,  that  there  are  better  means  tlian 
violence  and  blood,  for  controlling  mankind.  Such  is  the  spirit  of 
the  age ;  and,  though  retaining  the  instruments  of  vengeance,  it 
will  yet  contrive,  with  little,  if  any  use  of  bayonets  or  bullets,  of 
halters  or  chains,  to  restrain  the  wrong-doer,  to  protect  tlie  inno- 
cent, and  right  the  injured.  The  reign  of  love  is  coming ;  and  its 
triumphs  over  bad  passions  and  customs  -will  ere-long  astonish  the 
world.  This  spirit  calls  for  peace  ;  and,  should  we  make  our  plat- 
form broad  enough  to  incbide  all  that  are  really  desirous,  from  any 
motives,  of  putting  an  end  to  tlie  time-hallowed  tyranny  of  the 
sword,  we  might  ere-long  rally  for  its  utter  abolitiod  every  well- 
wisher  to  mankind.  Let  us  do  our  whole  duty ;  and  not  another 
war  shall  ever  sweep  its  besom  of  blood  and  fire  over  our  own 
land,  or  any  other  portion  of  the  civilized  world. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XII. 
MILITARY  PREPARATIONS. 


In  civilized  society  all  benevolent  men  profess  to  deprecate  war, 
'^et  it  is  viewed  by  most  as  a  necessary  evil,  an  event  which  must 
rievitably  occur,  and  therefore  they  deem  it  not  only  the  part  of 
visdom,  but  an  imperative  duty,  to  be  ready  to  repel  it  by  military 
)reparations,  and  hence  all  classes  join  to  arm  their  governments, 
md  surrender  their  persons  and  fortunes  to  them,  as  instruments 
)f  war. 

It  is  the  object  of  this  paper  to  show  tliat  this  is  a  fallacy.  It  is 
lot  intended  to  take  up  the  question  of  the  right  a  Christian  people 
lave  to  defend  themselves  by  military  resistance,  when  actually 
nvaded,  without  cause.  Admit  that  every  nation  has  such  right, 
md  that  in  such  case  it  is  a  duty  to  exercise  it,  still,  the  case  put 
s  a  chimerical  one,  and  will  afford  no  vindication  of  military  pre- 
tentions of  such  dangers  as  are  ever  likely  to  occur.  The  abstract 
ight  of  martial  resistance  may  be  conceded,  and  yet.  protest  made 
Lgainst  military  preparations,  on  the  ground  of  inexpediency. 

In  doing  this,  five  propositions  will  be  advanced.  1.  There  is  no 
•eal  necessity  for  war,  and  no  civilized  nation  has  reason  to  expect 
t,  which  deals  justly  and  kindly  with  other  nations.  The  idea,  that 
)owerful  sovereigns  are  ever  watchful  to  find  a  community  de- 
fenceless, to  invade  its  territory,  without  provocation,  for  conquest 
)r  rapine,  is  one  derived  from  barbarous  ages,  when  nations  were 
ndeed  little  else  than  bands  of  robbers,  and  the  precautions  deem- 
ed necessary  then  are  unadapted  to  modern  civilization.  Nations 
nay  make  aggressive  war  on  others  from  false  views  of  national 
lonor,  or  to  redress  some  imagined  wrong,  or  secure  some  alleged 
•ights ;  but  all  disclaim  tlie  desire  of  so  doing  without  any  other 
•eason  than  the  mere  purpose  of  conquest  or  injury,  and  it  is  an 
nsulting  calumny  to  insist  that  all  such  disclaimers  are  insincere. 
What  patriot  of  any  country  will  admit  this  criminal  motive  for 
limself  or  his  countrymen,  towards  foreign  nations  ?  Ask  the  citi- 
!;ens  of  any  land,  and  each  will  deny  it,  to  a  man.  Ilqw  illiberal 
;hen  to  impute  it  to  all  other  people  as  well  disposed  as  his  own. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  most  unjustifiable  invasions — even  of  re- 
cent date — have  been  made  by  powerful  nations  on  those  who  were 
mable  to  resist  them ;  but  in  these  cases  justice  has  always  been 
srofessed,  and  wrongs  always  alleged  ;  and  however  inconsistent 
:hese  professions  may  appear  to  us,  they  may,  under  the  blinding 
influence  of  interest  or  passion,  have  been  quite  sincere  with  them, 
rhese  invasions,  too,  have  always  been  met  with  a  show  of  resist- 
iince,  which  has  provoked  the  pride  of  the  aggressors.  Has  any 
authorized  attack  been  made  on  any  people  resigning  all  their 
claims  in  non-resisting  friendship  .J'    Not  one.     Ascribe  such  a 

p.  T.       NO.  XII. 


2  MILITARY    PREPARATIONS.  102 

conduct  to  any  government,  and  the  charge  will  be  met  with  in- 
diirnant  denial. 

2.  The  evils  arising  from  military  preparations  are  ^eater  in 
the  whole  than  those  that  would  be  incurred  by  submission  to  any 
probable  foreign  demand  tliey  are  designed  to  resist  Let  us  ap- 
preciate fully  Sie  enormous  evils  of  such  preparations. 

First,  in  regard  to  the  expense  of  them.  In  the  United  States, 
for  instance,  where  they  are  small,  compared  with  those  of  other 
nations,  the  military  expenses  are  five-sixtlis  of  all  the  expenditures 
of  government,  in  time  of  peace,  and  in  fifteen  or  twenty  years, 
amount  to  more  than  tlie  most  grasping  nation  would  desire  or  be 
able  to  obtain  from  these  States  by  force,  if  unresisted,  and  if  dis- 
posed for  such  robbery.  A  single  fact  will  exemplify  this  ex- 
pense : — It  has  been  proved  by  the  calculations  of  an  intelligent 
merchant,  that  the  annual  cost  of  the  comparatively  small  navy 
of  the  United  States  is  greater  tlian  tlie  whole  annual  amount  of 
the  freights  of  tlieir  mercantile  marine  for  tlie  same  years. 

This  instance  is  given  merely  as  a  small  sample.  The  military 
and  naval  expenses  of  Great  Britain  are  nine-tenths  of  all  the 
expenditures  of  tliat  profufee  government;  and  other  European 
nations  are  bmdened  in  a  proportionate  amount  Calculations 
have  been  made  which  demonstrate,  that  if  the  appropriations  for 
military  purposes  in  civilized  countries  were  withheld  from  them, 
and  applied  to  benevolent  objects,  the  Christian  religion  might  be 
preached  in  every  land,  and  the  blessings  of  education  extended 
to  every  family  on  tlie  globe  ;  science  might  be  advanced,  justice 
dispensed,  slavery  and  pauperism  nearly  obliterated,  and  peace 
publications  so  thoroughly  diffused  as  to  render  war  forever  impos- 
sible, and  military  preparations  consequently  unnecessary.  And 
enough  would  be  left  to  sustain  a  Congress  and  Courts  of  Nations, 
by  which  their  interests  might  be  regulated  as  justly  and  peace- 
ably as  now  in  the  most  enlightened  province  of  the  world. 

A  heavier  charge  of  evil  against  military  establishments  is  their 
corrupting  influence.  Every  such  establishment, — by  tlie  testimony 
of  military  men  themselves, — is  a  school  of  vice.  The  places  most 
fruitful  of  intemperance,  licentiousness,  profanity  and  infidelity,  are 
camps,  fortresses,  and  ships  of  war.  Can  honesty  and  respect  for 
right  be  expected  in  institutions  whose  avowed  purpose  is  to  exe- 
cute robbery  for  the  public,  and  to  overwhelm  all  rational  adjudi- 
cation by  physical  power;  or  even  safety  for  life  be  found  among 
tlioee  who  are  pledged  to  murder  by  wholesale  at  the  bidding  of 
tlieir  commander  ? 

Another  evil  in  military  establishments  is  their  despotism.  The 
myriads  of  men  employed  in  these  establishments  are  the  most 
abject  slaves,  exposed  to  hardships  and  cruelties  as  great  as  those 
of  the  African  slave  on  the  plantation ;  their  health,  comfort  and 
morals,  less  regarded,  and  the  exposure  to  violent  death,  and 
compulsion  to  crime  superadded ;  and  tliis  military  tyranny  is  not 
confined  to  the  soldiers  and  sailors  of  standing  armies  and  navies, 
but  is  diffused,  especially  by  the  militia  system,  through  the  whole 


103  MILITARY    PREPARATIONS.  3 

community.  Every  citizen  is  taught  by  it  the  necessity  of  arbitrary 
discipline  for  defensive  energy,  and  is  compelled  to  yield  his  money, 
his  person  and  his  conscience,  whenever  his  govenmient  shall 
demand  them,  even  for  public  crime. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  evil  in  military  establishments  is  that  for 
which  they  are  most  commended, — the  encouragement  of  a  mar- 
tial spirit.  It  is  impossible  to  receive  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel 
faithfully,  and  admit  for  a  moment  the  innocency  of  the  martial 
spirit.  A  nation  imbued  with  this  spirit  can  never  become  truly 
Christian,  or  fully  civilized ;  practical  infidelity  and  proud  bar- 
barism are  its  essential  characters.  With  those  who  concur  in 
this  view,  the  question  of  the  expediency  of  martial  preparations  is 
at  once  decided ;  for  if  the  interests  of  the  spirit  and  of  eternity 
ire  higher  than  those  of  the  body  and  of  time,  it  would  be  better, 
God  permitting,  that  a  nation  should  be  trodden  down,  every  right 
overthrown,  all  property  and  even  life  or  liberty  destroyed,  than, 
with  the  highest  prosperity,  every  soul  in  it  should  be  immersed  in 
a  sentiment  allying  it  to  the  dark  passions  of  an  infernal  world. 

3.  The  third  proposition  is,  that  a  kind,  forbearing  policy  secures 
rights  more  constantly  and  fully  than  the  menacing  aspect  of  armed 
jtreparation  for  defence.  That  this  is  true  in  private  life,  will 
probably  be  admitted  by  every  observer  of  human  society.  But 
if  human  nature  is  the 'same  in  the  mass  as  in  detail,  is  not  the 
good  policy  of  this  defenceless,  confiding  position  as  applicable  to 
nations  as  'to  individuals  ?  Innumerable  cases  are  cited  by  the 
friends  of  peace  to  shoAv  that  this  policy,  tried  on  a  limited  scale, 
has  ever  been  successful ;  the  only  instance  where  it  has  been 
tried  by  a  whole  nation  or  province,  is  that  of  Pennsylvania,  under 
the  government  of  the  Friends,  which,  maintained  for  more  than 
seventy  years  without  arms,  was  never  invaded,  or  even  insulted 
by  its  barbarous  and  warlike  neighbors. 

But  the  authority  of  the  gospel  bears  on  the  policy  as  well  as  the 
innocency  of  defensive  armaments.  Christ  has  enjoined  forbear- 
ance and  forgiveness  on  his  followers,  without  any  qualification  as 
to  their  numbers,  condition  or  political  connections.  Is  it  to  be 
believed  he  would  have  done  so,  if  such  a  course  would  have  ex- 
posed all  the  rights  and  property  of  society  to  destruction  ?  Sup- 
pose that  a  true  insight  into  human  ^character  and  the  voice  of 
history  did  not  teach  that  forbearance  is  more  conquering  than 
defiance,  will  we  not  trust  the  unerring  judgment  of  the  Omnis- 
cient more  than  the  short-sighted  maxims  of  human  experience  ? 

4.  War  is  more  frequently  caused  by  military  preparations  than 
it  is  supposed  to  be  averted  by  them,  both  by  encouraging  in  any 
nation  supporting  them,  an  arrogant  bearing  towards  foreign  na- 
tions, and  by  provoking  the  pride  of  those  nations,  by  their  defy- 
ing appearance.  In  a  report  of  a  careful  research  into  the  causes 
of  wars  among  Christian  nations,  by  order  of  the  Massachusetts 
Peace  Society,  twenty-three  were  enumerated  which  arose  entirely 
from  the  pride  provoked,  or  alarm  excited  by  the  increasing  arma- 
ments of  tlieir  neighbors,  and  from  no  other  cause.    Here,  then, 


31 


4  MILITARY    PREPARATIONS.  104 

is  proof  from  history  of  the  proposition  now  considered ;  the  in- 
strument alleged  to  be  for  the  prevention  of  war,  is  actually  one 
of  the  causes  of  its  production.  And  the  report  referred  to,  states, 
that  of  sixteen  of  these  wars  not  settled  by  compromise,  eleven 
terminated  in  favor  of  the  powers  provoked  or  alarmed,  and  tlie 
overthrow  of  the  trusted  preparations  for  defence. 

These  facts  ought  to  surprise  none  who  seriously  reflect  on  the 
subject,  for  they  are  conformable  to  the  known  character  of  human 
governments.  The  spirit  of  chivalry,  which  always  bent  before 
confiding  gentleness,  and  ever  stood  erect  in  resistance  to.  at- 
tempted intimidation,  is  the  universal  characteristic  of  political 
rulers ;  and  if  defensive  armaments  do  not  now  provoke  all  the 
assaults  it  is  their  nature  and  tendency  to  do,  it  is  not  because  they 
inspire  fear,  but  because,  as  every  nation  commits  the  same  folly, 
a  tacit  understanding  seems  to  exist  that  they  will  not  take  this 
distrustful  precaution  as  an  insult  from  each  other. 

5.  Lastly,  Military  preparations  for  defence  are  always  liable  to 
be  used  for  purposes  of  aggression.  The  considerations  before 
offered  have  gone  upon  the  ground  that  such  preparations  have 
been  strictly  confined  to  the  object  of  defence;  but  has  this 
been  the  case  with  any  powerful  nation?  Can  any  govern- 
ment of  Europe  or  America  repel  the  charge  of  inflicting  the 
aggressions  of  their  "  defensive  "  preparations  on  weaker  commu- 
nities ?  It  is  almost  proverbially  true  tliat  no  man  can  be  trusted 
with  great  power  without  an  irresistible  desire  to  abuse  it.  This 
is  a  solemn  consideration  for  the  Christian  patriot  who  voluntarily 
contributes  to  the  support  of  military  defences.  Let  him  beware 
that  he  does  not  tliereby  render  himself  accessory  to  the  murder- 
ous aggression  of  offensive  war.  No  form  of  government  can 
check  3iis  tendency  of  military  establishments  to  wTong ;  and  no 
political  combination  can  exempt  the  individual  supporting  them 
from  the  responsibility  of  participating  in  their  crimes.  At  the 
bar  of  eternal  justice  every  one  must  answer  for  the  means  and 
temptation  he  gives  to  the  Imperial,  the  Royal  or  the  Presidential 
robber  to  satiate  his  avarice  or  ambition  in  ^e  blood  of  his  fellow 
men. 

If  the  preceding  arguments  are  conclusive ;  If  there  is  no  ground 
for  attributing  hostile  dispositions  to  other  nations  ;  if  the  evils  of 
military  preparations  to  meet  aggressions  are  greater  than  those 
which  would  be  incurred  by  submission  to  them;  if  kindness 
would  be  a  safer  defence  than  intimidation ;  if  a  martial  attitude  is 
often  a  provocation  to  war ;  and  if  provisions  for  defence  are  gen- 
erally liable  to  be  used  for  offensive  war ;  why  should  these  bur- 
densome and  pernicious  establishment  be  maintained  ?  Let  Chris- 
tian nations  abolish  them,  and  adopt  the  gospel  policy  of  forbear- 
ing benevolence,  and  they  will  be  safe.  The  arm  of  Omnipotence 
will  protect  them ;  the  crimson  stream  of  blood,  and  the  darker 
torrent  of  vice  will  be  stopped  for  ever. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


')l)t ' 


No.  XIII. 

PROGRESS   OF   PEACE, 

OR 
HOW    MUCH    ALREADY    ACCOMPLISHED    IN    THIS    CAUSE. 


The  cause  of  peace  seeks,  as  its  only  object,  the  entire  aboli- 
tion of  war.  Nearly  thirty  years  have  elapsed  (1844)  since  the 
origin  of  tJiis  movement ;  and  here  we  may  well  pause  awhile  to 
review  its  progress,  and  see  how  much  is  already  gained. 

It  is  very  difficult,  however,  to  ascertain  the  exact  degree  of  suc- 
cess in  a  cause  like  this.  It  lacks  the  usual  criteria.  It  tells  not 
of  so  many  Bibles  circulated,  or  so  many  heralds  of  the  cross  sent 
forth  ;  of  so  many  churches  gathered,  or  so  many  missionary  sta- 
tions established  ;  of  so  many  converts,  or  so  many  pledges.  Such 
indices  of  progress  belong  not  to  this  cause.  Like  leaven  in  bread, 
or  sugar  in  fluids,  it  vanishes  from  our  sight  in  the  very  act  of  ac- 
complishing its  purpose ;  and,  if  we  would  learn  how  much  has 
been  accomplished,  we  must  trace,  through  a  series  of  years,  the 
gradual  change  of  men's  views,  feelings,  and  habits  on  the  subject 
of  war.  If  they  have  clearer  perceptions  of  its  guilt  or  its  evils  ; 
if  they  are  less  inclined  to  abet  or  tolerate  appeals  to  the  sword ;  if 
tliey  have  actually  abstained  from  such  appeals  longer  than  they 
had  for  centuries  before;  if  there  is  a  growing  demand  from  the 
people  ^or  other  means  of  adjusting  difficulties  between  nations ; 
if  the  rulers  of  Christendom  are  beginning  to  adopt  pacific  expe- 
dients for  the  settlement  of  national  disputes,  as  their  permanent 
policy,  then  have  we  all  the  proofs  of  success  which  the  nature  of 
the  case  will  admit. 

Such  proofs  we  have ;  and  mark  tlie  change.  Time  was,  nor  long 
ago,  when  warriors  received  the  admiration  of  the  world  ;  when 
there  was  scarce  an  advocate  of  peace  besides  the  QuEikers,  Mora- 
vians, and  a  very  few  others ;  when  the  idea  of  abolishing  war  was 
scouted  as  the  wildest  of  Utopian  dreams  ;  when  no  press,  and 
hardly  a  pulpit  denounced  this  trade  of  blood  as  inconsistent  with 
Christianity ;  when  war,  as  an  arbiter  of  disputes  between  nations, 
was  considered  as  equally  laAvful  with  codes  and  courts  of  law  for 
individuals  ;  when  ministers  of  the  gospel,  otherwise  excellent, 
preached  in  favor  of  war,  botli  defensive  and  ofFensive,as  zealously 
as  any  one  now  can  in  support  of  civil  government,  and  urged 
their  hearers,  in  the  language  of  the  devout  and  eloquent  Davies, 
'  to  cherish  a  war-spirit  as  derived  from  God,  as  a  sacred,  heaven- 
born  fire.' 

How  altered  now  the  tone  of  public  sentiment.  Pass  through  the 
land ;  traverse  all  Christendom ;  converse  with  every  class  of  men ; 
examine  the  various  issues  of  the  press ;  and  at  every  step  will  you 
meet  with  views  far  more  pacific  than  formerly.    A  change  is 

P.'t.      no.  XIII. 


3  PROGRESS    OF    PEACE.  106 

coming  over  the  minds  of  men ;  and  already  has  peace  become 
the  popular  demand  of  tlie  age.  There  is  a  diminished  respect 
for  men  of  blood,  and  national  competition  is  passing  froia  tlie 
field  of  battle  to  those  departments  of  science,  art,  and  industry 
which  procure  wealth,  and  promote  refinement  and  happiness. 
Most  of  the  standing  armies  of  Eiurope  are  in  a  course  of  reduction, 
and  our  own  States  are  gradually  ceasing  to  require  military  drills. 
Every  where  is  tlie  art  of  war  falling  into  disuse;  even  now  is  it 
barely  tolerated  as  a  necessary  evil ;  and  some  of  our  legislatures 
are  calling,  for  measures  to  supersede  its  alleged  necessity  by  tlie 
adoption  of  substitutes  far  better  than  tlie  sword.  Such  substi- 
tutes popular  opinion  is  beginning  to  demand  ;  and  difficulties 
which  would,  fifty  or  even  tliirty  years  ago,  have  plunged  nations 
instantly  in  blood,  are  now  adjusted  often  with  scarce  a  thought 
of  appealing  to  anns.  Negotiation,  arbitration,  and  otlier  pacific 
measures  are  actually  taking  the  place  of  the  sword  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten  where  it  was  formerly  used.  War  has  ceased  to  be  re- 
garded as  tlie  only  arbiter  of  national  disputes  ;  and  the  leading 
cabinets  of  Christendom  are  beginning  to  adopt  for  this  purpose 
pacific  expedients  as  their  permanent  system.  Already  is  the  in- 
ternationsd  policy  of  Christendom  materially  changed ;  and,  should 
this  policy  continue  much  longer,  it  may  yet  suffice  to  keep  the 
peace  of  Uie  civilized  world  for  ages  to  come. 

Observe  the  moral  machinery  set  at  work  to  produce  such  re- 
sults. In  nearly  every  country  where  any  enterprises  of  the  kind 
can  be  sustained,  good  men  are  combining  their  efforts  for  the  ab- 
olition of  war ;  and  tliese  associations,  embracing  some  of  the  pur- 
est and  most  gifted  minds  in  Christendom,  have  put  in  operation  a 
variety  of  simple  yet  effective  means.  They  employ  the  living 
voice,  and  are  sending  forth  lecturers.  They  wield  the  press, 
and  are  circulating  pamphlets,  periodicals  and  tracts,  far  and  wide. 
They  have  also  published  volumes ;  and  some  of  these,  written 
with  singular  ability,  have  gone  to  the  libraries  of  the  learned,  to 
halls  of  legislation,  and  palaces  of  kings.  Millions  of  pages  on 
the  subject  of  peace  have,  from  year  to  year,  been  scattered  over 
the  best  portions  of  Christendom,  and  sent  occasionally  into  tlie 
four  quarters  of  tlie  globe. 

Glance  at  tlie  otlier  agencies  drawn  into  co-operation  vrith  us. 
We  have  waked  tlie  pulpit ;  and  thousands  of  ministers  arc  now 
preaching  peace  as  a  part  of  the  gospel.  We  have  enlisted  the 
press ;  and  multitudes  of  periodicals,  both  religious  and  secular, 
are  beginning  to  discuss  this  grand  question  of  the  world.  We 
have  also  laid  the  clauns  of  peace  before  the  Christian  community  ; 
and  not  only  individual  churches,  but  ecclesiastical  bodies  repre- 
senting almost  every  considerable  denomination  in  our  land,  have 
passed  resolves  in  its  favor,  and  commended  it  to  the  sympathies, 
prayers  and  patronage  of  good  men.  We  have  likewise  brought 
the  subject  before  not  a  few  of  our  higher  seminaries  ;  and  in  these 
it  is  attracting  attention,  calling  fortli  discussion,  and  raising  up 
youthful  friends  who  may  one  day  become  its  champions."    In 


107  PROGRESS    OF    PEACE.  3 

some  of  them,  prizes  have  been  annually  given  for  the  best  essay- 
on  peace  ;  and  these  essays,  first  delivered  in  public  by  their  au- 
thors, and  then  sent  forth  to  the  world  through  some  periodical, 
must  contribute  not  a  little  to  that  change  of  popular  sentiment 
which  alone  is  requisite  for  the  entire  abolition  of  war. 

Before  rulers,  also,  have  we  brought  the  claims  of  this  cause. 
On  the  alarai  of  war,  we  have  remonstrated  with  them  against  a 
resort  to  arms,  and  have  occasionally  been  successful  in  holding 
them  back  from  bloodshed.  We  have  shown  them  the  possibility 
©f  superseding  war  by  better  means,  and  urged  upon  them  the 
duty  of  adopting  such  substitutes  in  place  of  the  cannon  and  the 
sword.  We  have  petitioned  them  especially  to  obviate  all  neces- 
sity for  war,  either  by  incorporating  in  their  treaties  a  pledge  to 
settle  their  disputes  in  the  last  resort  by  reference  to  umpires  mu- 
tually chosen,  or  by  calling  a  congress  of  nations  to  frame  a  spe- 
cific, authoritative  code  of  international  law,  and  establish  an  inter- 
national tribunal  to  interpret  that  law,  and  adjust  all  difficulties 
which  may  aris^  among  the  great  brotherhood  of  nations. 

But  popular  opposition  would  be  the  surest  safeguard  against 
war ;  and  already  are  the  people  rallying  to  prevent  the  return  of 
this  terrible  scourge.  Even  now  does  their  voice  decide  in  fact 
the  question  of  peace  or  war ;  nor  is  there  a  despot  in  Christendom 
that  would  hazard  an  appeal  to  arms  without  first  feeling  the  popu- 
lar pulse.  There  is  no  escape ;  the  will  of  the  people  rmist  be 
heeded ;  and  just  as  fast  as  they  are  enlightened,  will  rulers  find 
it  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  play  any  longer  this  game  of  blood 
at  the  expense  of  their  subjects.  And  the  people  are  fast  getting 
tlie  light  requisite  for  this  purpose.  The  question  is  before  tliem  ; 
and  already  is  it  discussed  more  or  less  by  high  and  low,  by  old 
and  young ;  in  the  pulpit,  the  senate,  and  the  forum ;  in  literary 
societies,  in  popular  lyceums,  in  nearly  all  our  seminaries  of  learn- 
ing ;  in  volumes  and  pamphlets,  in  quarterlies  and  monthlies,  in 
weekly  and  daily  newspapers ;  by  the  farmer,  the  mechanic  and 
the  merchant,  the  citizen  and  the  soldier. 

Mark  the  result  of  these  and  kindred  influences.  After  cen- 
turies of  almost  incessant  conflict,  the  general  peace  of  Europe  has 
been  preserved  ever  since  the  origin  of  efforts  in  this  cause,  now 
nearly  thirty  years  ;  a  longer  period  of  rest  from  war  than  Chris- 
tendom ever  knew  before. 

These  efforts  have  probably  saved  ourselves  from  several  wars. 
It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  many  dangers  have  been  so  far  obviated 
as  to  keep  them  entirely  from  our  knowledge ;  but  during  the  last 
nine  years,  we  have  been  in  imminent  exposure  to  war,  first  with 
France,  next  with  Mexico,  and  finally  with  England  herself.  Had 
public  opinion  been  what  it  was  fifty  years  before,  we  could  hardly 
have  escaped  a  war  in  either  case  ;  but  the  change  of  sentunent 
through  Christendom  that  prevented  a  calamity  so  dreadful,  has  re- 
sulted under  God  mainly  from  the  efforts  and  the  influences  which 
together  constitute  the  cause  of  peace.  Provocations  not  half  as 
great,  have  frequently  occasioned  fierce,  protracted  wars;   and 


4  PROGRESS    OF    PEACE.  108 

nothing  but  the  altered  views  of  tlie  age,  especially  of  the  parties 
themselves,  averted  that  deplorable  catastrophe. 

We  have  not  room  to  review  in  detail  all  the  cases  just  alluded 
to ;  but  let  us  briefly  revert  to  the  danger  of  a  war  with  Mexico. 
Nearly  the  whole  South  and  West  were  calling  aloud  for  it, 
and  Congress  was  on  the  eve  of  taking  measures  which  would 
have  rendered  it  inevitable  ;  but  just  at  tliat  crisis,  tlie  friends  of 
peace  petitioned  our  government  to  accept  the  proposal  of  Mexico 
for  the  settlement  of  Sieir  difficulties  by  reference  to  an  umpire  to 
be  mutually  chosen.  The  appeal  was  well-timed,  and  enabled  the 
venerable  John  Q,uinct  Adams,  as  he  says  himself,  "  to  declare 
to  the  House  and  the  country  not  only  my  aversion  to  a  war  witli 
Mexico,  but  the  painful  feelings  with  which  I  have  seen  it  recom- 
mended. It  will  operate,"  he  continues,  "  as  a  check  on  the  com- 
mittee to  prevent  their  reporting  any  war-measure  against  Mexico, 
which  they  would  infallibly  have  done,  had  not  tlieir  disposition  to 
it  been  met  at  the  threshold.  The  proposal  of  a  reference  to  arbi- 
tration was  itself  so  reasonable,  that  no  voice  was  heard  in  Con- 
gress against  it ;  and  very  soon  afterwards,  it  was  conditionally  ac- 
cepted. This  removed  all  immediate  danger  of  a  war ;  and  if  the 
petitioners  of  the  peace  societies  had  never  rendered  to  their  coun- 
try any  other  service,  they  would  have  deserved  the  thanks  of  tlie 
whole  nation  for  this." 

Reflect  on  the  importance  of  these  results — tlu-ee  wars  averted 
from  our  own  land,  and  the  general  peace  of  Christendom  pre- 
served for  nearly  thirty  years  of  almost  incessant  war  that  sacri- 
ficed no  less  than  nine  millions  of  lives,  and  some  tliirty  or  forty 
tliousand  millions  of  dollars !  Is  not  here  proof  enough  of  the 
most  triumphant  success  ?  Had  there  been  no  drunkard,  not  a 
solitary  case  of  intoxication,  in  our  whole  country  for  thirty  years, 
would  not  such  a  fact  alone  prove  the  cause  of  temperance  to  have 
been  gloriously  successful  ? 

These  results  are  undeniable ;  but  how  many  would  fain  ac- 
count for  them  by  quoting  merely  the  generat  influences  of  civil- 
ization, and  commerce,  and  Clu-istianity,  and  popular  education, 
and  public  opinion,  and  modern  diplomacy,  and  recent  experience 
of  the  evils  inseparable  from  war !  But  if  these  influences  are  the 
cause  of  the  world's  peace  for  the  last  thirty  years,  why  did  they 
prove  so  utterly  unsuccessful  down  to  the  very  time,  and  become 
so  successful  ever  since,  and  only  since  the  time  when  the  friends 
of  peace  began  tlieir  united  efforts  ?  Before  the  battle  of  Water- 
loo, was  there  in  Christendom  no  civilization,  no  commerce,  no 
Christianity,  no  pulpit  or  press,  no  popular  education,  no  public 
opinion,  no  arts  of  diplomacy,  no  bitter  experience  of  the  evils  in- 
flicted by  this  master-scourge  of  the  world  ?  Yes ;  all  these  gen- 
eral influences  were  in  existence  and  pretty  full  operation  ages 
before.  Why  then  did  they  fail  to  insure  peace  ?  For  the  same 
reason  that  the  power  of  steam  existed  all  over  the  eartli  thousands 
of  years  before  it  propelled  a  ship,  or  twirled  a  spindle — nobody 


109  PROGRESS    OF    PEACE.  5 

applied  it  to  that  purpose.  For  the  same  reason  that  hundreds  of 
water-falls  poured  from  our  own  hills,  century  after  century,  with- 
out turning  a  single  water-wheel — nobody  applied  them  to  that 
purpose.  For  the  same  reason  that  all  the  intelligence,  virtue, 
and  piety  in  our  land  failed  for  generations  to  check  the  progress 
of  intemperance — nobody  applied  them  to  that  specific  purpose. 
Such  an  application  was  indispensable.  It  was  no  special  increase 
of  intelligence,  or  patriotism,  or  piety,  or  any  other  good  influences, 
that  accomplished  the  temperance  reform,  but  the  concentration  of 
them  all  upon  that  specific  object.  Here  is  the  whole  secret ;  and 
without  this,  our  intelligence,  and  patriotism,  and  virtue,  and  piety, 
and  pliilanthropy  might  have  continued  till  doomsday  without  roll- 
ing back  the  deluge  of  liquid  fire  that  was  sweeping  over  our  land. 
Just  so  in  the  cause  of  peace.  The  civilization,  and  commerce, 
and  Christianity,  and  public  opinion,  and  all  the  other  general  in- 
fluences so  flippantly  quoted  by  some  as  having  secured  for 
Christendom  her  last  thirty  years  of  peace,  failed  for  centuries  to 
prevent  bloodshed,  until  the  friends  of  peace,  like  those  of  tempe- 
rance in  their  cause,  seized  those  general  influences,  and  concen- 
trated them  on  their  single  purpose  of  abolishing  war.  Such  influ- 
ences are  quite  essential ;  but  it  is  only  their  right  application  that 
can  secure  the  result  sought.  They  are  the  elements  or  instruments 
of  every  good  cause.  So  in  missions  and  temperance  ;  but  would 
any  man,  for  this  reason,  attempt  to  account  for  all  that  has 
been  accomplished  in  those  causes  by  quoting  such  general  influ- 
ences without  an  allusion  to  the  special  efforts  made  by  the  asso- 
ciated friends  of  temperance  and  missions  ?  Yet  we  might  as  well 
do  this,  as  think  to  account  for  the  peace  of  Christendom  for  the 
last  thirty  years  without  giving  to  the  cause  of  peace,  under  God, 
the  chief  credit  of  a  result  so  immensely  important  to  the  world. 

But  some  minds  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  cure  of  this  strange 
skepticism.  '  We  carmot,'  say  they,  '  deny  the  glorious  results 
of  which  you  speak  ;  but  they  came  from  influences  not  dependent 
on  your  movement. "  It  is  the  gospel  that  has  produced  them.' — 
True  ;  but  it  is  only  the  gospel  as  applied  since  the  commence- 
ment of  our  efforts ;  for  that  very  gospel  failed  for  ages  to  produce 
such  results.  Why  ?  Solely  because  it  was  not  then  applied  as 
it  is  now  beginning  to  be.  But  why  not  extend  this  reasoning  to 
all  other  enterprises  ?  The  gospel  is  the  origin,  the  main-spring 
of  the  missionary,  Bible,  and  temperance  movements  ;  but  would 
you  say  there  is  no  need  of  such  enterprises,  because  the  gospel, 
as  applied  by  tliem,  has  confessedly  eflTected  every  one  of  3ie  re- 
sults commonly  ascribed  to  their  agency  ?  Because  it  is  the  medi- 
cine that  cures,  is  there  no  need  of  its  being  applied  ? 

'  But  commerce  and  travel  have  done  much  for  peace.' — ^Very 
true ;  but  they  have  done  far  more  for  missions  and  other  benevo- 
lent enterprises.  Shall  we  then  say,  that  the  latter  do  not  deserve 
the  credit  of  their  own  acknowledged  achievements  ?  Our  tracts, 
our  Bibles,  our  missionaries  are  sent  round  the  globe  in  the  ves- 
sels of  our  merchants  ;  is  the  credit  of  the  result  all  due  to  com- 


PROGRESS    OP    PEACE. 


110 


merce  ?    Would  you  reserve  none  to  tract,  Bible  or  missionary 
societies  ? 

*  But  the  pulpit  has  done  more  for  peace  than  your  peace  socie- 
ties.'— Be  it  so ;  but  because  it  has  done  a  hundred  fold  more  for 
missions,  is  the  missionary  society  of  no  use  ?  Did  not  the  pio- 
neers of  that  cause  first  wake  the  pulpit  to  its  duty  in  behalf  of  a 
perishing  world  ?  Do  not  its  labors  now  constitute  an  integral 
part  of  the  missionary  enterprise  ?  Just  so  of  peace.  It  has 
prompted  ministers  of  the  gospel  to  do  nearly  all  they  have  ever 
done  on  the  subject,  and  their  labors  in  this  cause,  eis  in  that  of 
missions,  have  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  movement;  but  what 
should  we  think  of  the  Christian  who  would  urge  this  fact  as  a 
reason  why  notliing  more  should  be  done  for  the  missionary  cause  ? 
*  Ministers  are  at  work  in  its  behalf;  let  us  therefore  abandon  it' 
Strange  logic  ;  yet  the  very  same  that  even  good  men  sometimes 
use  in  order  to  neutralize  the  claims  of  peace. 

'  But  the  press,  by  the  multitude  of  its  brief,  pithy  articles,  is 
doing  more  than  the  peace  society  to  prevent  war.' — Grant,  if  you 
please,  this  position  also ;  yet  it  Avas  the  peace  society  that  first 
enlisted  the  press  in  this  work,  and  has  furnished  nearly  every 
thing  hitherto  published  on  the  subject  in  our  newspapers  and 
other  periodicals.  Services  of  this  sort  may  all  be  traced,  directly 
or  indirectly,  to  the  cause  of  peace  as  the  main-spring. 

*  Rulers,  too,  are  coming  to  your  aid.' — True  again ;  but  they 
did  not  generally  alter  their  course  until  the  friends  of  peace  pressed 
its  claims  upon  them,  or  diffused  among  the  people  such  views  as 
effectually  demanded  a  pacific  instead  of  a  warlike  policy.  The 
change  in  their  measures  has  resulted  mainly  from  the  influences 
set  at  work  by  the  associated  friends  of  peace. 

*  But  the  world  has  grown  too  wise  to  repeat  its  old  game  of 
war.' — So  have  vast  multitudes  become  too  wise  to  taste  the  drunk- 
ard's drink ;  but  where  did  they  learn  this  wisdom  ?  In  the  school 
of  temperance.  If  nations  are  now  too  wise  to  play  the  suicidal 
game  of  war,  whence  came  this  wisdom  ?  Was  it  not  from  the 
cause  of  peace  ?  If  not,  how  came  all  Christendom  to  put  this 
wisdom  in  practice  just  at  tlie  time,  and  only  since  the  time,  when 
our  enterprise  began  ? 

'  But  the  wars  of  Napoleon  taught  a  lesson  too  terrible  to  be  for-* 
gotten  soon,  if  ever.' — Terrible  indeed  they  were,  but  little  more 
so  than  some  previous  wars  which  nevertlieless  did  not  long  re- 
strain Europe  from  the  sword.  The  superior  efficacy  of  tlie  last 
lesson  has  resulted  less  from  its  own  nature  than  from  the  special 
efforts  made  by  the  friends  of  peace  to  impress  it  on  the  public 
mind  ;  and  without  such  efforts,  that  lesson  would  long  ago  have 
lost  its  power  to  hold  even  Christendom  back  from  blood.  "W  hy 
did  not  the  '  Thirty  Years  War,'  which  early  in  the  seventeenth 
century  made  the  very  heart  of  Europe  a  wilderness,  teach  its  na- 
tions their  present  policy,  and  even  prevent  the  rise  of  such  a 
monster  as  Napoleon  ? 

*  But  nations  now  understand  their  own  interests  much  better 


Ill 


PROGRESS    OF    PEACE. 


than  formerly,  and  perceive  far  more  clearly  the  advantages  of 
peace,  and  the  evils  of  war.' — It  may  be  so ;  but  this  they  always 
knew  well  enough  for  every  practical  purpose  ;  and  if  their  knowl- 
edge is  now  greater  or  more  influential  than  formerly,  it  is  mainly 
because  the  friends  of  peace  have  so  often  and  so  earnestly  in- 
culcated tliis  truth  upon  them. 

'  After  all,  however,  there  is  little  principle  in  this  new  policy  of 
peace ;  in  pursuing  it,  nations  have  an  eye  solely  to  their  own  in- 
terests.'— Be  it  so,  if  you  please  ;  but  if  tliey  actually  discard  war, 
and  make  peace  their  permanent  policy,  we  shall  not  quarrel  with 
them  about  their  motives.  All  we  seek  is  the  peace  of  the  world ; 
and,  if  men  will  for  any  reason  cease  from  war,  we  gain  our  whole 
object. 

'  This  they  are  doing ;  and  since  the  leading  influences  of  the 
age  are  so  fast  setting  in  favor  of  peace,  there  is  no  need  of  any 
more  efforts  in  this  cause.' — We  rejoice  in  the  fact  here  stated ; 
but  nearly  all  the  influences  of  the  world  were  on  the  side  of  war 
until  the  friends  of  peace  united  to  turn  the  current.  Look  through 
Christendom ;  and  you  will  find  not  only  its  thirty  years  of  peace, 
but  nearly  all  its  changes  of  opinion  in  favor  of  our  object,  as  faurly 
attributable  to  tne  cause  of  peace,  as  the  progress  of  temperance 
is  to  that  cause,  or  the  spread  of  the  gospel  to  missionary  efforts. 
True,  God  has  lent  his  aid  to  the  work ;  but  this  disproves  neither 
its  success  nor  its  necessity.  Can  any  enterprise  succeed  with- 
out his  smiles  ?  Does  his  blessing  supersede  means  ?  Because 
he  works,  is  there  no  need  of  man's  agency  ?  In  every  enterprise 
which  God  designs  to  render  successful,  he  raises  up  a  variety  of 
auxiliary  influences  ;  but  these,  so  far  from  superseding  the  cause 
itself,  only  form  his  part  of  the  movement,  and  insure  its  ultimate 
triumph  by  the  pledge  of  his  approbation  and  blessing. 

Let  us  not  imagine,  then,  that  our  work  is  already  done.  Done !  it 
is  only  begun,  and  will  require  ages  to  finish  it.  We  have  not  yet 
beaten  swords  into  plough-shares,  but  merely  kept  them  in  their 
scabbards.  We  have  not  killed  the  monster ;  we  have  only  caged 
and  chained  him.  The  war-gangrene  still  cankers  the  heart  of 
Christendom,  and  poisons  the  very  fountains  of  its  morality  and  re- 
ligion. The  whole  war-system  still  remains ;  and  the  magazine 
needs  only  a  spark  to  kindle  such  an  explosion  as  would  convulse 
the  civilized  world.  The  war-spirit,  so  far  from  being  extinct, 
merely  sleeps ;  and  the  demon  waits  only  a  sufficient  provocation 
to  unkennel  his  blood-hounds,  and  send  them  howling  in  rage  as 
fierce,  and  havoc  as  terrible  as  ever,  over  the  fairest  fields  of 
Christendom  itself.  We  have  as  yet  no  perfect  security  ;  nor  can 
we  ever  have  until  nations  shall  give  up  the  war-principle  of  ad- 
justing their  diflferences  by  the  sword,  and  establish  in  its  place  a 
permanent  system  of  rational,  legal,  peaceful  adjudication. 

Thanks  to  the  God  of  peace  for  the  cheering  success  thus  far 
vouchsafed ;  but  this  should  only  stimulate  to  still  greater  exertions. 
No  other  enterprise  has  done  more,  if  so  much,  in  proportion  to  the 
means  used.  Contrast  these  means  with  the  results  already  reached. 


%  PROGRESS. OF    PEACE.  ,11^ 

Dunng  the  first  twenty-five  years  from  the  origin  of  this  cause,  its 
receipts  tlirough  Christendom  did  not  probably  average  more  tlian 
fonr  thousand  dollars  a  year;  wliile  the  war-system  was  annually 
costing  Christendom,  in  one  way  and  another,  more  than  one  thou- 
spjid  millions !  Less  fiDr  peace  in  twenty-five  years  tlian  fi^r  the 
war-system,  even  in  peace,  a  single  hour ! !  Yet  this  mere  pit- 
tance, spent  in  the  use  of  moral  means,  in  a  right  application  of 
the  gospel  to  the  case,  has  under  God  done  more  than  all  the 
myriads  wasted  on  her  war-system,  to  preserve  the  peace  of  Chris- 
tendom the  last  thirty  years. 

What  encouragement,  then,  to  efforts  in  this  cause !  Let  the 
requisite  means  be  used  ;  and  ultimate,  if  not  speedy  success  is 
certain.  Let  the  gospel,  wherever  preached,  be  rightly  applied 
to  war ;  let  the  press,  in  the  ubiquity  and  power  of  its  influence, 
be  fully  enlisted  in  behalf  of  this  enterprise;  let  editors  not 
only  lend  their  columns  to  its  advocacy,  but  indite  articles  ot- 
their  own  in  its  behalf;  let  the  pulpit  open  its  moral  battery, 
arid  pour  upon  the  public  mind  volley  after  volley  of  God's  truth 
on  this  subject ;  let  ministers  of  every  name  take  the  cause  under 
their  patronage,  and  labor  for  it  as  they  do  for  temperance  or  mis- 
sions ;  let  Christians  as  a  body  come  up  to  this  work  in  earnest 
and  take  hold  of  it  as  their  o'wti  ;  let  the  friends  of  this  object  or- 
ganize themselves  into  societies  or  committees  to  co-operate  with 
us  by  raising  funds,  procuring  lectures,  and  circulating  our  publi- 
cations ;  let  churches  remember  this  cause  as  they  do  others  in 
their  prayers,  and  contribute  regularly  and  liberally  to  its  funds  ; 
let  the  friends  of  peace  sponta,neously  unite  in  petitioning  govern- 
ment to  provide,  in  arbitration  or  a  congress  of  nations,  ample  sub- 
stitutes for  the  sword ;  let  all  that  deprecate  a  calamity  so  fearful, 
combine  at  once  to  resist  any  and  every  war  tliat  may  hereafter  be 
threatened; — let  all  this  be  done,  and  we  may  see' war  ere-long 
vanishing,  like  dew  before  the  rising  sun,  from  every  land  blest 
■with  the  light  of  tlie  gospel,  and  eventually  all  nations  beating 
their  swords  into  plough-shares,  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks, 
and  learning  war  no  more. 

Such  a  result  mmt  cpme,  for  God  has  promised  it ;  yet  never 
can  it  come  without  the  use  of  such  means  as  he  has  appointed  for 
the  purpose.  The  gospel  must  he  applied  aright  to  the  case.  Here 
is  our  work ;  and  fain  would  we  press  all  good  men  into  it  Min- 
isters must  preach ;  Christians  must  pray ;  the  eloquent  must  plead  ; 
the  poor  must  give  their  mite,  and  the  rich  trieir  hundreds,  if  not 
their  thousands.  The  cause  requires  a  system  of  operations  in- 
comparably more  expensive  than  that  of  Prison  Discipline ;  and 
yet  upon  this  did  John  Howard  spend  from  his  own  purse  an  ave- 
rage of  nearly  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  more  than  fifteen 
years  in  succession.  Oh  for  some  Howard  or  Thornton  to  rise, 
and  give  his  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  to  this  blessed  work 
of  a  world's  entire,  perpetual  pacification! 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


ill 

No.  XIV. 

WASTE  OF  PROPERTY  BY  WAR. 


The  value  of  property  can  be  estimated  only  by  the  pur- 
poses it  may  subserve.  It  supports  life,  procures  comforts, 
and  furnishes  means  of  improvement,  happiness  and  salva- 
tion. These  uses  measure  its  value  ;  and  in  this  view  it 
has  been  made,  by  writers  on  political  economy,  an  index 
to  the  prosperity  of  a  nation,  and  a  criterion  of  its  capacity 
for  enjoyment  and  usefulness. 

War  is  the  grand  impoverisher  of  the  world.  In  estima- 
ting its  havoc  of  property,  we  must  inquire  not  only  how 
much  it  costs,  and  how  much  it  destroys,  but  how  far  it 
prevents  the  acquisition  of  wealth  ;  and  a  full  answer  to 
these  three  questions  would  exhibit  an  amount  of  waste 
beyond  the  power  of  any  imagination  adequately  to  con- 
ceive. Such  an  answer  we  shall  not  now  attempt,  but 
merely  glance,  first,  at  the  prevention  of  wealth  hy  war, 
next  its  incidental  havoc,  and  finally  its  direct  expenses. 

I.  Consider,  then,  how  2var  prevents  the  accumulation  of 
property.  Its  mere  uncertainties  must  operate  as  a  very 
serious  hindrance ;  for,  while  every  thing  is  afloat,  and  no  ' 
forecast  can  anticipate  what  changes  may  take  place  any 
month,  men  will  not  embark  in  those  undertakings  by  which 
alone  wealth  is  rapidly  acquired.  They  shrink  from  the 
risk,  and  wisely  wait  to  see  what  is  coming ;  and  thus  the 
main-springs  of  a  nation's  prosperity, — its  capital,  its  en- 
terprise, and  its  best  facilities  for  making  money, — remain 
comparatively  idle  and  useless.  This  cause  alone,  an  inva- 
riable attendant  upon  war,  is  sufficient  to  paralyze  the  ener- 
gies of  business  in  all  its  departments. 

Still  worse,  however,  are  the  sudden  changes  of  war. 
These  precede  its  commencement,  accompany  its  progress, 
and  follow  its  close,  baffling  the  utmost  precaution,  keep- 
ing business  unsettled,  and  actually  wasting,  as  well  as 
preventing,  a  large  amount  of  property.  They  discourage 
enterprise,  defeat  the  best  plans,  and  produce  a  vast  multi- 
tude of  failures.  They  may,  here  and  there,  make  a  for- 
tune ;  but,  where  they  make  one,  they  ruin  or  mar  a  hun- 
dred.    The  mere  dread  of  such  changes  must  paralyze^. 

p.  T.      NO.  XIV. 


2  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  114 

more  or  less,  every  department  of  business,  and  cripple 
nearly  all  eflforts  for  the  acquisition  of  wealth. 

Hence  ensue  a  general  derangement  and  stagnation  of 
business.  Nearly  all  its  departments  are  either  thrown 
into  confusion,  or  brought  entirely  to  a  stand  ;  and  thus  the 
main  energies  of  a  people,  even  if  not  absorbed  in  war, 
must  either  rust  in  idleness,  or  be  frittered  away  in  baffled 
schemes,  and  fruitless  exertions. 

Mark  the  inevitable  result  in  the  disuse  or  unprofitable 
employment  of  capital,  industry  and  skill  in  commerce 
and  manufactures,,  in  agriculture,  the  various  arts,  and  all 
departments  of  labor  and  enterprise.  These  are  the  great 
fountains  of  wealth  ;  but  in  war  they  are  either  dried  up, 
or  forced  into  new  and  unproductive  channels.  Capital,  as 
in  the  case  of  Holland  during  the  late  wars  of  Europe, 
(1793-1815,)  is  locked  up,  or  sent  out  of  the  country,  be- 
cause there  are  at  home  so  few  opportunities  of  profitable 
or  safe  investment.  Enterprise  is  checked,  because  there 
is  so  little  reward  or  demand  for  its  products.  There  is 
no  foreign  market  for  the  fruits  of  agriculture ;  and  land 
ceases  to  be  tilled  with  care  and  success.  There  is  no  out- 
let for  manufactures;  and  the  shop  and  the  factory  are 
closed,  or  kept  at  work  with  little  vigor  and  less  profit.  In- 
tercourse between  nations  is  almost  suspended ;  and  com- 
merce stands  still,  vessels  rot  at  the  wharves,  and  sea-ports, 
once  alive  with  the  hum  of  business,  are  cut  off  from  the 
principal  sources  of  their  wealth,  and  sink  into  speedy,  per- 
haps irrecoverable  decay.  All  the  main-springs  of  national 
prosperity  are  broken,  or  crippled,  or  kept  in  operation  at 
immense  disadvantage.  An  incalculable  amount  of  capital 
in  money,  and  ships,  and  stores,  and  factories,  and  work- 
shops, and  machinery,  and  tools,  and  raw  materials,  and 
buildings,  and  inventions,  and  canals,  and  railways,  and 
industry,  and  skill,  and  talent,  is  withdrawn  from  use,  and, 
for  want  of  profitable  employment,  goes  more  or  less  to 
waste.  How  much  is  thus  lost,  it  would  be  vain  even  to 
conjecture ;  but  we  should  be  safe  in  supposing  that  in  these 
ways  war  might,  besides  all  it  spends,  and  all  it  destroys, 
reduce  fi^r  a  time  the  value  of  a  nation's  entire  property 
from  thirty  to  fifty  per  cent. ! 

But  the  most  direct  influence  of  war  on  national  pros- 
perity, comes  from  the  sudden  withdrawal  of  men  in  the 
vigor  of  life.  In  such  men  are  found  the  mines  or  labora- 
tories of  a  nation's  wealth;  but  what  multitudes  of  these 


115  WASTE    OF   PROPERTY   BY   WAR.  3 

does  the  war-system  require  for  its  support !  The  standing 
warriors  of  Europe  are  (1844)  about  three  millions  even  in 
a  time  of  peace,  and  exceeds  four  millions  and  a  half  in 
war,  with  large  additions  to  meet  occasional  emergencies. 
Not  a  few  of  these  millions  may  have  been  the  main-springs 
of  business ;  and  their  removal  can  scarcely  fail  to  derange 
and  cripple  every  one  of  its  departments.  All  of  them 
must  possess  an  unusual  share  of  strength  for  labor,  since 
no  others  would  be  equal  to  the  hardships  of  war ;  and  the 
sudden  abstraction  of  such  men  by  thousands  from  every 
part  of  a  country,  and  from  every  kind  of  employment,  must 
paralyze  the  entire  industry  of  a  nation.  Agriculture,  trades, 
manufactures,  all  kinds  of  business  must  receive  a  severe 
and  lasting  shock. 

Still  worse  is  the  influence  of  war  on  the  habits  indis- 
pensable to  the  thrift  of  a  people.  It  mars  the  character 
necessary  for  the  acquisition  of  property.  It  debases  their 
minds,  corrupts  their  morals,  and  undermines  almost  every 
species  of  excellence  among  them.  It  renders  them  idle, 
dishonest  and  profligate.  It  fills  the  land  with  persons  who 
prey  upon  society  like  moths  or  gangrene.  It  destroys  the 
habits  needed  to  enrich  a  people,  and  introduces  others  fa- 
tally calculated  to  impoverish  any  country.  It  represses 
almost  every  thing  good,  and  gives  fresh  and  fearful  activity 
to  whatever  is  bad.  It  is  a  hot-bed  of  evils.  Idleness  and 
vagrancy,  fraud,  theft  and  robbery,  the  lowest  vices,  and  the 
blackest  crimes,  are  both  the  nurses  and  the  offspring  of  war. 

Such  considerations  as  these  we  might  pursue  to  almost 
any  extent ;  but  enough  has  been  said  to  show,  that  all  the 
enormous  expenses  of  war  would  not  equal  the  loss  of  prop- 
erty occasioned  by  the  combined  and  permanent  influence 
of  such  causes  alone  as  we  have  here  specified.  Take  an 
illustration.  When  our  population  was  some  fifteen  or  six- 
teen millions,  an  eminent  statesman  of  our  own  estimated  the 
annual  production  of  the  United  States  at  $1,400,000,000, 
or  nearly  ninety  dollars  to  each  inhabitant ;  and,  if  we  sup- 
pose war  to  prevent  only  one  fifth  of  all  this,  the  loss  would 
be  no  less  than  $280,000,000  a  year!  Reckoning  our 
present  population  (1844)  at  twenty  millions,  the  annual 
sacrifice  would  be  about  $350,000,000.  But,  supposing 
the  amount  of  annual  production  to  average  only  fifty-dol- 
lars  to  each  inhabitant,  then  Christendom,  with  a  population 
of  250,000,000,  would  lose  $2,500,000,000  a  year ;  and 
the  whole  globe,  with  1,000,000,000  people,  would  sacrifice 


4  WASTE    OP    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  116 

the  enormous  sum  of  ten  thousand  millions ! !  Such  a  result 
seems  incredible ;  and  yet  the  calculation  for  our  own 
country  is  probably  below  the  truth,  and  may  serve  as  a 
clue  to  the  boundless  waste  of  property  by  war  even  in 
ways  which  are  generally  overlooked. 

II.  Glance  next  at  the  immediate,  incidental  havoc  of  pro- 
yeVty  hy  war.  Such  havoc  must,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  be  immense.  Follow  an  army,  ancient  or  modern, 
savage  or  civilized ;  trace  the  course  of  the  French  under 
Napoleon  in  Russia  or  Portugal,  setting  fire  in  one  case  to 
every  house  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  ;  look  at  even 
British  troops  in  Spain  or  India;  see  them  trampling  down 
harvests,  and  burning  villages,  destroying  towns,  ravaging 
entire  provinces,  and  pillaging  city  after  city ;  and  can  you 
conceive  the  amount  of  property  thus  wasted  ?  Bring  the 
case  home,  and  say,  if  Boston  contains  property  to  the 
amount  of  more  than  one  hundred  millions,  and  New  York 
two  or  three  times  as  much,  how  many  millions  either  city 
would  lose  from  capture,  or  a  close  and  protracted  siege. 

We  can  ascertain  more  nearly,  yet  very  imperfectly, 
what  is  destroyed  on  the  ocean.  The  sum  total  of  our  own 
exports  and  imports  may  have  ranged,  for  the  last  ten 
years,  from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  forty  or 
fifty  millions  of  dollars  a  year;  nearly  as  large  an  amount 
may  perhaps  have  been  interchanged  along  our  immense 
coast ;  and  no  small  part  of  both  would  be  liable  in  war  to 
be  seized  by  our  enemies.  The  imports  into  one  of  our 
cities  amounted  in  a  single  quarter  of  1836,  to  thirty-six 
millions  ;  and  a  war,  suddenly  occurring,  might  have  found 
afloat  on  the  ocean  an  equal  amount  destined  to  the  same 
port,  and  scores  of  millions  belonging  to  the  \\«liole  nation. 
The  nature  of  the  case  forbids  accuracy  of  calculation, 
yet  shows  that  commerce  is  liable  to  losses  beyond  the 
power  of  computation  or  even  conjecture.  Since  the  close 
of  our  revolutionary  struggle,  we  have  been  engaged  in 
foreign  war  less  than  three  years ;  but  it  would  probably 
require  some  hundreds  of  millions  to  cover  all  the  losses 
we  have  sustained  from  depredations  on  our  commerce. 

Another  source  of  loss  to  a  nation's  wealth,  is  found  in 
the  waste  of  life  by  war.  It  takes  men  at  the  very  age  when 
then  labor  would  be  most  productive,  and  shortens  their 
life  more  than  twenty  years  in  war,  and  some  ten  or  fifteen 
in  peace  !  The  statistics  of  mortality  among  men  devoted 
to  this  work  ^i  blood,  are  truly  startling.     Soldiers,  though 


117  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  5 

in  the  bloom  and  vigor  of  life,  live  on  an  average  only 
about  three  years  in  a  time  of  war,  and  die  even  in  peace 
twice  as  fast  as  galley  slaves,  and  more  rapidly  than  men 
ordinarily  do  at  the  age  of  fifty  and  sixty ! 

What  a  loss  of  property  must  such  a  waste  of  life  occa- 
sion ?  Let  us  suppose  it  costs  an  average  of  $500  to  raise 
a  soldier,  and  reckon  his  labor  for  the  ten  years  of  his  life 
shortened  in  peace,  and  twenty  years  in  war,  at  $150  a 
year.  If  the  standing  armies  of  Europe  are  three  millions 
in  a  time  of  peace,  she  sustains,  at  this  rate,  a  loss  of 
$1,500,000,000  for  their  training,  1450,000,000  a  year  for 
labor,  and  $4,500,000,000  for  the  shortening  of  their  life 
ten  years ;  an  average  in  peace  of  $840,000,000  a  year 
from  this  source  alone  !  !  Reduce  these  estimates  one  half, 
and  you  still  have,  even  in  peace,  the  enormous  sacrifice  of 
$420,000,000  a  year.  In  a  time  of  war,  the  armies  of 
Europe,  when  full,  are  supposed  to  be  some  four  millions 
and  a  half;  but,  putting  them  in  round  numbers  at  four 
millions,  the  loss  would  be  for  their  training  $2,000,000,- 
000,  for  their  labor  $600,000,000  a  year,  and  for  cutting 
short  their  life  twenty  years,  $12,000,000,000  ;  an  average 
loss  in  war,  if  we  suppose  a  soldier's  life  then  to  be  only  three 
years,  of  $5,266,000,000  a  year  ! !  Such  a  result,  how- 
ever incredible,  comes  fairly  from  the  premises ;  and,  should 
you  reduce  these  estimates  even  eighty  per  cent.,  you  would 
still  make  out  a  loss  of  more  than  $1,000,000,000,  every 
year  of  actual  war  from  this  source  alone !  If  we  extend 
our  calculation  to  the  five  millions  of  persons  in  the  army 
of  Xerxes,  to  the  millions  of  Ninus,  and  Semiramis,  and 
Jenghiz-khan,  to  all  the  armies  from  Nimrod  to  the  present 
time,  we  should  find,  from  the  mere  waste  of  life,  an  aggre- 
gate exceeding  our  utmost  conceptions.  We  have  not  taken 
into  account  the  superior  value  of  officers ;  and  still  the 
result  proves  the  loss  of  property  in  this  way  alone  to  be 
much  greater  than  all  the  direct  expenses  of  war. 

III.  Look,  then,  at  the  actual  cost  of  icar.  Even  in 
peace,  it  is  enormous.  The  amount  of  money  wasted  on 
fortifications  and  ships,  on  arms  and  ammunition,  on  monu- 
ments and  other  military  demonstrations,  it  is  impossible  to 
calculate  with  precision  or  certainty.  The  expense  of  the 
wall  round  Paris  was  estimated  (1840)  at  250,000,000 
francs,  or  nearly  $50,000,000  ;  a  single  triumphal  arch  in 
that  city,  only  one  among  the  hundreds  scattered  through 
Christendom,  cost  10,000,000  francs ;  and  we  know  not  how 


G        ^  WASTE    OF    PBOPEETY    BY    WAR.  118 

many  millions  more  were  expended  in  the  pageantry  of  re- 
moving Napoleon's  remains  from  St.  Helena  to  their  present 
resting-place.  The  palace  of  Versailles,  mainly  the  fruit 
of  war,  is  acknowledged  to  have  cost  1,000,000,000  francs, 
or  $200,000,000,  a  sum  sufficient  to  build  the  whole  city 
of  New  York,  or  four  such  cities  as  Boston.  Go  to  Green- 
wich or  Chelsea,  and  there  see  what  immense  sums  are 
spent  on  the  diseased,  crippled  and  worn-out  servants  of 
war.  Survey  the  grand  arsenal  of  England  at  Woolwich, 
and  imagine  how  many  millions  have  been  wasted  on  its 
twenty-seven  thousand  cannon,  and  its  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  small  arms.  Millions  of  dollars  have  been  expended 
on  some  single  forts  in  our  own  country;  and  still  the 
highest  authority  assured  us  in  1S35,  that  thirty  millions 
more  would  hardly  suffice  to  put  our  entire  coast  and  fron- 
tiers in  even  a  tolerable  state  of  defence. 

But  the  original  cost  of  these  materials  of  war  is  not  the 
only  expense  they  occasion  ;  immense  sums  are  required 
every  year  to  keep  them  in  repair.  Here  lies  the  chief  care 
of  the  war-system  in  peace ;  and,  should  you  go  through 
Europe,  or  even  our  own  country,  you  would  find  a  vast 
number  of  shops,  and  foundries,  and  ship-yards  constantly 
at  work  for  this  purpose.  This  single  item  of  expense  can- 
not, for  all  Christendom,  be  less  than  8100,000,000  a  year  ! 

Still  more  expensive,  however,  is  the  maintenance  of  an 
army  either  in  war  or  in  peace.  Thiers,  the  distinguished 
historian  of  France,  and  once  a  leading  member  of  her 
cabinet,  reckons  the  expense  of  supporting  a  soldier  to  be 
in  Austria  about  8130,  in  France  8146,  in  Prussia  nearly 
8200,  in  England  still  greater;  and  it  would  be  a  very  low 
estimate  to  suppose,  that  every  soldier  in  Christendom  costs 
an  average  of  8150  a  year.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  the 
exact  number  of  standing  warriors  in  Christendom ;  but 
they  cannot  be  less,  and  may  be  more,  than  3,000,000  in 
peace.  Aside  from  naval  forces,  the  army  of  Spain  has 
been  120,000,  that  of  England  100,000,  with  the  addition 
of  200,000  in  war,  and  an  indefinite  number  for  emergen- 
cies in  her  eastern  possessions ;  that  of  France  from  350,000 
to  400,000,  and  in  1840  even  900,000  ;  that  of  Austria 
750,000  in  war,  probably  not  less  than  400,000  in  peace ; 
that  of  Russia  850,000  in  peace,  and  reckoned  by  some  as 
high  as  1,000,000.  If  we  put  the  peace  establishment  of 
Christendom  as  low  as  3,000,000,  and  suppose  them  all  to 
require  for  their  annual  support  an  average  of  only  8150 


119  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  7 

each,  the  result  would  be  $450,000,000  a  year  for  their 
sustenance ;  and  reckoning  one  ojfficer  to  ten  soldiers,  and 
awarding  to  each  of  the  latter  an  English  shilling  a  day,  or 
$87  a  year  for  wages,  and  to  the  former  an  average  salary 
of  $500  a  year,  or  less  than  six  shillings  a  day,  we  should 
have,  for  the  pay  of  the  whole,  no  less  than  $385,000,000 
a  year,  or  a  grand  total,  for  both  sustenance  and  pay,  of 
$835,000,000  ! !  Reckoning  the  annual  cost  of  their  suste- 
nance only  $100  each  ;  and,  with  the  paltry  compensation 
of  one  shilling  a  day  for  officers  as  well  as  privates,  we 
reach  the  enormous  sum  of  $561,000,000  a  year  ! 

We  cannot  well  conceive  how  much  the  leading  nations 
of  Europe  waste  upon  their  war-system  even  in  peace.  The 
annual  charge  of  Great  Britain  for  her  war-debt  alone  has 
been  some  twenty-eight  or  thirty  millions  sterling  a  year, 
not  less  than  $140,000,000  ;  exceeding,  by  more  than  one- 
third,  all  the  taxable  property  in  the  state  of  Ohio  in  1836. 
The  war-departmciit  of  France  in  1819,  a  year  of  peace, 
cost  twenty  times  as  much  as  her  whole  civil  list.  In  1827 
England  paid  in  peace  $220,000,000  for  war-purposes,  and 
for  all  her  civil  offices  only  one-fortieth  part  of  that  sum.  In 
1825,  another  year  of  peace,  her  entire  expenses  amounted 
to  $256,000,000,  more  than  half  the  wealth  of  the  whole 
state  of  New  York  as  estimated  in  1835,  while  her  civil  list 
for  the  same  year  was  only  $4,698,000;  a  proportion  of 
one  to  fifty-six  ! 

Few  suspect  how  much  our  own  country  spends  upon 
the  war-system  even  in  peace.  If  we  suppose  our  annual 
income  for  the  last  fifteen  years  to  have  averaged  only 
$24,000,000,  we  shall  find,  that  not  less  than  $18,000,000 
have  been  lavished  upon  our  army  and  navy  ;  three  dollars 
for  war  to  one  for  the  peaceful  operations  of  government ! 
Still  more  expensive  in  fact  is  our  militia  system.  If 
one  person  in  ten  among  us  is  liable  to  military  duty,  the 
whole  number  would  now  be  nearly  2,000,000.  If  we 
suppose  that  four  trainings  every  year  are  necessary  to  keep 
the  system  in  full  vigor  ;  that  the  yearly  expenses  for  equip- 
ment are  only  three  dollars  for  each  man,  and  incidental 
expenses  barely  fifty  cents  a  day ;  that  every  training  ab- 
sorbs one  day  and  a  half,  each  worth  $1.50,  less  than  the 
fine  usually  imposed  for  not  training  ;  that  the  number  of 
spectators  is  equal  to  that  of  the  soldiers,  allowing  to  each 
one  dollar  a  day  for  time,  and  fifty  cents  for  expenses;  that 
the  officers  together  incur  half  as  much  expense  as  all  the 


8  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  120 

privates ;  we  should  make  out  a  total  of  845,000,000  a  year 
for  the  above  items  alone !  Add  the  cost  of  splendid  regi- 
mentals, and  fine  clothes,  and  standards,  and  music,  and 
cavalry,  and  artillery,  and  arsenals,  and  magazines,  and  the 
incidental  destruction  of  property,  and  all  the  injury  arising 
from  the  suspension  and  derangement  of  business,  and  vices 
contracted  on  such  occasions ;  and  we  shall  not  wonder, 
that  one  of  our  ablest  and  most  candid  writers  (Hon.  Wil- 
liam Jay,)  should  have  reckoned  **  the  yearly  aggregate 
expense  of  our  militia,"  even  when  their  whole  number  was 
only  1,500,000,  *'  not  much,  if  any  short  of  fifty  millions!" 
At  this  rate,  the  present  number  of  our  militia  would  cost 
us  more  than  866,000,000  a  year ;  but,  if  we  deduct  even 
one  half  of  this  sum,  and  then  add  our  yearly  expenditure 
of  eighteen  millions  for  the  army  and  navy,  we  should  make 
the  expense  of  our  own  war-system  more  than -fifty  millions 
a  year  in  a  time  of  profound  peace  ! 

We  boast  of  our  pacific  policy  and  habits ;  yet  war  has 
ever  been  the  burden  of  our  national  expenses.  In  1817, 
our  war  expenses  were  about  nine  times  as  large  as  those 
for  all  other  purposes.  To  give  some  details,  we  expended, 
in  1832,  for  civil  offices,  81,800,758  ;  for  intercourse  with 
foreign  nations,  8325,181  ;  for  miscellaneous  objects, 
82,451,203;  for  the  army,  85,446,035;  for  the  naval  ser- 
vice, $3,956,320 ;  for  revolutionary  pensions,  a  war  charge, 
31,057,121 ;  for  various  other  pensions,  8127,301  ;  for  the 
Indian  department,  81,352,420  ;  for  the  national  debt,  the 
fruit  of  our  last  war,  817,840,309;  in  all,  more  than  thirty 
millions  and  a  half  in  one  form  or  another  for  war,  seven- 
teen times  as  much  as  for  the  whole  civil  list,  and  about  ten 
times  as  much  as  for  all  the  other  purposes  of  our  govern- 
ment !  From  1791  to  1832,  a  period  of  forty-one  years,  the 
aggregate  of  our  expenditures,  with  some  two  years  and  a 
half  of  actual  war,  was  8842,250,891  ;  and  of  this  sum 
at  least  eight-ninths  were  for  war-purposes,  and  merely 
837,158,047,  or  about  one  twenty-third  part  of  the  whole, 
for  the  civil  list ;  one  dollar  for  the  support  of  government, 
to  twenty-three  dollars  for  war  !  Durimr  our  revolutionary 
struggle,  we  borrowed  of  France  87,962,959,  expended 
from  our  own  resources  8135,193,703,  and  issued  of  paper 
money  8359,547,027;  in  all,  8502,703,689,  besides  an 
indefinite  amount  of  contributions  from  individuals  and 
states-  From  1816  to  1834,  eighteen  years,  our  national 
expenses  amounted  to  8463,915,756;    and  of  this  sum, 


121  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  9 

nearly  four  hundred  millions  went  in  one  way  and  another 
for  war,  and  only  sixty-four  millions  for  all  other  objects  ! 
Here  then  we  have,  even  in  a  time  of  peace,  twenty-two 
millions  a  year  for  war,  and  about  three  millions  and  a  half, 
less  than  one-sixth  of  the  whole,  for  the  peaceful  operations 
of  a  government  that  plumes  itself  on  its  pacific  policy  !  If 
we  take  into  account  all  the  expenses  and  all  the  losses  of 
war  to  this  country,  it  will  be  found  to  have  wasted  for  us,  in 
sixty  years,  some  two  or  three  thousand  millions  of  dollars  ! ! 

But  look  at  the  direct  expenses  of  war.  A  single  first- 
rate  ship  of  the  line  is  supposed  to  cost  us,  in  active  service, 
full  half  a  million  of  dollars  a  year ;  and  the  number  of 
war-ships  in  Christendom,  though  few  of  the  first  class,  has 
been  estimated  at  more  than  two  thousand.  Our  last  war, 
though  cheap  in  comparison  with  most  wars,  required  simply 
for  its  prosecution  more  than  fifty  millions  a  year.  England 
expended  in  our  revolutionary  war  nearly  $700,000,000 , 
the  wars  consequent  on.  the  French  Revolution,  cost  her 
more  than  $5,000,000,000  ;  and  the  wars  of  all  Christen- 
dom, even  of  Europe  alone,  from  1793  to  1815,  a  period 
of  only  twenty-two  years,  wasted  barely  for  their  support, 
some  $15,000,000,000  ; — a  sum  so  far  beyond  all  ordinary 
calculation  or  conception,  that  a  person,  beginning  at  the 
birth  of  our  Savior,  and  counting  thirty  a  minute  for  twelve 
hours  every  day,  would  not  finish  the  whole  even  at  the 
close  of  the  present  century  ! 

Take  from  an  English  writer  a  glimpse  of  England's  ex- 
penditures for  some  of  her  great  wars.  From  1688  to  1815, 
a  period  of  127  years,  she  spent  sixty-five  in  war,  two  more 
than  in  peace.  The  war  of  1688  continued  nine  years,  and 
increased  her  expenditures  $180,000,000.  Then  came  the 
war  of  the  Spanish  succession,  and  absorbed  in  eleven  years 
more  than  $300,000,000.  Next  was  the  Spanish  war  of 
1739,  which  cost  in  nine  years  $270,000,000.  Then  came 
the  seven  years'  war  of  1756,  in  the  course  of  which  Eng- 
land spent  $560,000,000.  The  next  was  the  American  war 
of  1775,  which  lasted  eight  years,  and  cost  $680,000,000. 
The  French  Revolutionary  war  of  nine  years  from  1793, 
occasioned  an  expenditure  of  $2,320,000,000.  During  the 
war  against  Bonaparte  from  1803  to  1815,  England  raised 
by  taxes  $3,855,000,000,  and  by  loans  $1,940,000,000;  in 
all,  $5,795,000,000,  or  an  average  of  $1,323,082  evfery  day, 
and  more  than  a  million  of  it  for  war-purposes  alone  !  In 
the  war  of  1688,  she  borrowed  $100,000,000 ;  in  the  war  of. 


10  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  122 

the  Spanish  succession,  $162,500,000 ;  in  the  Spanish  war, 
$145,000,000;  in  the  Seven  Years' war,  $300,000,000 ;  in 
the  American  war,  $520,000,000 ;  in  the  French  Revolu- 
tionary war,  $1,005,000,000.  During  seven  wars,  lasting  in 
all  sixty-five  years,  she  borrowed  $4,170,000,000,  and  raised 
by  taxes  $5,949,000,000 ;  making  a  total  expenditure  of 
$10,115,000,000!*  It  has  been  estimated,  that  England 
spent  about  ten  thousand  millions  merely  in  wars  under- 
taken first  to  humble  the  Bourbons,  and  then  to  restore 
them  to  the  throne  which  Napoleon  had  usurped. 

Glance  at  the  financial  history  of  such  a  warlike  nation 
as  England,  and  mark  the  unbounded  prodigality  of  war. 
Her  average  revenue  during  the  reign  of  the  Norman  kings, 
was  ^300,000  ;  under  the  Plantagenets,  or  Saxon  line, 
^133,017 ;  under  the  house  of  Lancaster,  only  .£80,026 ; 
during  that  of  York,  ,£100,000  ;  under  that  of  Tudor, 
^510,000.  During  the  entire  reign  of  George  I.,  there 
came  into  the  treasury  of  Great  Britain  only  .£79,832,160, 
or  a  very  little  more  than  in  the  single  year  of  1815  ;  during 
that  of  his  successor,  .£217,217,301,  of  which  he  spent 
.£157,000,000  in  three  wars ;  and  during  that  of  George 
III.,  there  was  expended  no  less  than  .£1,386,268,446, 
more  than  $6,000,000,000,  three  times  as  much  as  all  the 
coin  on  the  globe  at  the  time  of  its  greatest  abundance  in 
1809.  From  1797  to  18t7,  twenty  years,  England  bor- 
rowed $2,160,000,000,  and  raised  by  taxes  $6,192,866,066; 
in  all,  $8,352,866,066,  or  an  average  for  the  twenty  years 
of  $1,143,444  every  day,  and  more  than  a  million  of  this 
for  war  I 

War  has  loaded  all  Europe  with  debts.  It  is  impossible 
to  ascertain  their  precise  amount ;  but  in  1829,  that  of 
Prussia  was  said  to  be  $133,000,000;  that  of  Russia, 
$158,000,000;  that  of  Spain,  $315,000,000;  that  of  Aus- 
tria, $351,000,000  ;  that  of  Netherlands,  $668,000,000; 
that  of  France,  $874,000,000;  while  that  of  England  in 
1815  was  $4,395,000,000.  We  do  not  know  how  nearly 
the  above  sums  exhibit  the  present  war-debts  of  these  coun- 
tries ;  but  the  sum  total  now  resting  on  Europe  alone,  can- 
not be  much,  if  any,  less  than  ten  thousand  millions  of  dol- 
lars, or  five  times  as  much  as  all  the  coin  in  the  world ! 

What  a  maelstrom  to  engulph  the  riches  of  the  world  ! 
AH  the  'public  property  of  England  was  estimated  in  1833 

*  We  have  here  multiplied  pounds  by  five  to  turn  them  into  dollars ; 
a  little  more  than  their  real  value. 


^  123  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  11 

at  <£138,715,571,  less  than  one-sixth  part  of  her  war-debt  ; 
and  her  entire  resources,  private  as  well  as  public,  were 
reckoned  the  same  year  at  ^5,547,484,517,  only  a  little 
more  than  six  times  as  much  as  her  debt  in  1815.  Its  in- 
terest alone,  if  left  to  accumulate,  would  in  the  lapse  of  a 
few  ages,  consume  her. whole  wealth.  Her  war-expenses 
even  in  peace  would  in  less  than  seventy  years  exhaust  all 
her  property  at  home,  and  consume  in  one  century  all  her 
resources  over  the  globe  !  If  we  consider  all  the  ways, 
direct  and  indirect,  in  which  the  war-system  destroys  prop- 
erty, it  will  be  found  even  in  peace  to  waste  for  Europe 
alone  nearly  two  thousand  millions  every  year,  and  we 
should  be  quite  moderate  in  putting  the  sum  total  at  fifteen 
hundred  millions ! 

How  much,  then,  must  war  have  wasted  in  five  thousand 
years  over  the  whole  earth  !  Look  back  to  the  time  when  it 
was  the  all-absorbing  business  of  nations,  every  other  pur- 
suit its  handmaid,  and  intervals  of  peace  only  resting-places 
to  recruit  for  this  work  of  blood  ;  imagine  one-eighth,  in 
some  cases  one-fifth  and  even  one-fourth  part  of  the  popu- 
lation to  be  soldiers,  all  trained  to  war  as  the  leading  object 
of  their  life ;  think  of  Bacchus  and  Sesostris^with  millions 
of  warriors  at  their  heels ;  of  Ninus  and  Semiramis  with 
two  millions  of  soldiers,  and  more  than  ten  thousand  armed 
chariots  ;  of  Cyrus  and  Cambyses,  of  xllexander  and  Caesar, 
with  their  ferocious  successors;  of  Turks  and  Tartars, 
Saracens  and  Crusaders  ;  of  Tamerlane,  and  Jenghiz-khan, 
and  Napoleon  ;  conceive  these  countless  millions  of  robbers, 
marauders  and  incendiaries,  not  merely  consuming  for  their 
own  support  an  amount  altogether  incalculable,  but  burning 
villages  and  cities,  laying  waste  empires,  and  ravaging  the 
whole  earth  age  after  age  with  fire  and  sword ;  and  it  would 
seem  a  low  estimate  to  suppose,  that  the  entire  course  of 
war  has  wasted  fifty  times  as  much  as  all  the  property  now 
on  the  globe  ! ! 

But  for  this  curse  of  curses,  what  a  world  might  ours 
have  been  !  Give  it  back  all  the  property  that  war  has  cost, 
and  prevented,  and  destroyed  from  the  first ;  and  the  bare 
interest  would  suffice  ere-long  to  make  the  whole  earth  "a 
second  Eden ;  to  build  a  palace  for  every  one  of  her 
nobles,  and  provide  luxuries  for  all  her  now  famished 
and  suffering  poor ;  to  spread  over  the  entire  surface  of  our 
globe  a  complete  net-work  of  canals  and  rail-ways ;  to 
beautify  every  one  of  her  cities,  beyond  all  ancient  or  mod- 


12  WASTE    OF    PROPERTY    BY    WAR.  124 

ern  example,  with  works  of  art  and  genius  ;  to  support  all 
her  governments,  and  give  a  church  to  every  village,  a 
school  to  every  neighborhood,  and  a  Bible  to  every  family. 

Take  an  estimate  or  two.  With  the  eighteen  millions  i 
year  from  our  own  treasury  for  war,  or  the  fifty  millions 
more  from  the  pockets  of  the  people  for  our  militia  system, 
how  much  good  might  be  done  in  a  multitude  of  ways. 
Eighteen  millions  ! — this  alone  is  more  than  twice  the  origi- 
nal cost  of  the  Great  Western  Canal  from  Albany  to  Buffalo, 
which  has  added  hundreds  of  millions  to  the  vali/e  of  our 
western  country ;  three  or  four  times  as  much  as  our  whole 
population  pay  yearly  for  the  support  of  the  gospel  at  home, 
and  nearly  a  hundred  times  as  much  as  the  average  amount 
of  annual  contributions  from  all  the  Christians  in  our  land, 
the  last  thirty  years,  for  evangelizing  the  world  !  What 
then  might  have  been  accomplished  for  the  good  of  mankind 
by  the  hundreds  and  even  thousands  of  millions  wasted  by 
ourselves  upon  this  custom  during  and  since  our  revolu- 
tionary war  ! 

Glance  at  all  Christendom.  The  bare  interest  at  five 
per  cent,  on  her  entire  war-debt  would  be  $500,000,000  a 
year ;  and  with  this  sum  we  might  every  year  make  a  rail- 
way nearly  round  the  globe,  or  pay  the  necessary  expenses 
of  all  its  governments  without  war,  or  support  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  for  every  five  hundred  of  its  inhabitants  !  Take 
the  fifteen  hundred  millions  annually  wasted  in  time  of 
peace ;  and,  in  fifty  years,  it  would  suffice  to  make,  at 
$30,000  a  mile,  no  less  than  2,500,000  miles  of  rail-road  ; 
enough  to  encircle  the  globe  more  than  a  hundred  times  ! ! 

Would  to  God  that  the  lessons  taught  by  fifty  centuries 
of  blood,  might  be  duly  impressed  at  length  upon  a  warring 
world  !  Take  them,  ye  heralds  of  the  cross,  and  proclaim 
them  aloud  to  the  multitudes  that  hang  upon  your  lips.  Let 
the  press  send  them  forth  on  the  wings  of  steam  all  over  the 
earth.  Ponder  them  well,  ye  who  hold  the  helm  of  state. 
Come  hither,  ye  millions  of  oppressed  and  starving  poor, 
come,  and  learn  the  chief  cause  of  your  woes.  Ye  are  all 
the  victims  of  war.  His  brand  is  on  your  brow ;  his  mana- 
cles on  your  limbs  ;  the  blight  of  his  withering  curse  upon 
all  your  pursuits  and  interests.  It  is  the  master-tyrant 
of  our  world ;  and  every  one  that  loves  God  or  his  country, 
his  species  or  himself,  should  unite  to  sweep  from  the  earth 
a  despotism  so  bloody  and  baleful. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


> 


mi  ^ 

No.  XV. 
APPEAL    TO    CITIES: 


THE    SPECIAL    CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    UPON    THEM. 


The  cause  of  peace  aims  solely  at  the  abolition  of  war, 
and  has  nothing  to  do  with  any  thing  else — with  capital 
punishment,  the  suppression  of  mobs,  the  treatment  of  rob- 
bers and  pirates,  or  any  other  matters  of  civil,  internal 
government.  We  are  concerned  only  with  the  intercourse 
of  nations,  and  seek  merely  to  abolish  the  custom  of  settling 
their  disputes  by  the  sword. 

An  object  this  of  vast  importance ;  and  for  its  accom- 
plishment we  would  fain  unite  all  the  friends  of  God  and 
man  in  the  use  of  appropriate  means.  These  means  are  all 
included  essentially  in  such  an  application  of  the  gospel  as 
shall  Christianize  public  opinion  on  the  subject,  bring  war 
under  the  ban  of  the  civilized  world,  and  thus  lead  its  na- 
tions to  discard  forever  their  savage  method  of  settling  their 
disputes.  We  would  train  up  a  new  and  entire  generation 
of  peace-makers ;  and  for  this  purpose  we  would  enlist  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  the  church  and  the  school,  the  fire-side 
and  the  workshop,  the  parent  and  the  teacher,  old  and 
young,  male  and  female,  the  mass  of  every  community 
professing  a  religion  which  promises,  as  one  of  its  results, 
the  permanent  reign  of  peace  over  the  whole  earth. 

We  neither  expect  nor  desire  any  violent  or  sudden 
change.  We  labor,  by  the  diffusion  of  light  and  love,  for 
such  a  change  of  public  sentiment  as  shall  effectually  de- 
mand the  peaceful  adjustment  of  all  difficulties  between  na- 
tions. We  propose  neither  to  sacrifice  nor  endanger  their 
interest,  but  simply  to  introduce  better  means  for  the  pro- 
tection of  their  rights,  the  redress  of  their  wrongs,  and  the 
settlement  of  their  disputes.  We  would  gradually  super- 
sede war  by  such  substitutes  as  negotiation,  arbitration  and 
mediation,  or  some  permanent  system,  like  a  congress  of 
nations,  which  shall  combine  all  these  principles,  and  per- 
form for  states  essentially  the  same  services  that  our  codes 
and  courts  of  law  now  do  for  individuals.  We  would  have 
rulers,  like  their  subjects,  adjust  their  difficulties  without 
bloodshed.     They  could,  if  they  would;  they  will  whenever 

p.  T.       NO.  XV. 


2  APPEAL    TO    CITIES.  126 

public  opinion  shall  demand  it  aright ;  that  opinion,  prop- 
erly enlightened,  would  thus  demand  it ;  and  hence  we  seek 
to  form  such  an  opinion  by  spreading  light  on  this  subject 
all  over  the  civilized  world. 

Already  is  this  work  most  auspiciously  begun.  A  few 
philanthropists  in  both  hemispheres  united  in  this  cause 
soon  after  the  downfall  of  Napoleon ;  and  with  an  average 
expenditure  for  all  Christendom  of  only  four  or  five  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  for  the  first  twenty-five  years,  have  they 
made  an  impression  on  the  civilized  world,  and  materially 
modified  its  international  policy.  Public  opinion  on  thia 
subject  is  widely  different  from  what  it  was  fifty  or  even 
thirty  years  ago  ;  and  difficulties  which  would  then  liave  oc- 
casioned fierce,  protracted  wars,  are  now  adjusted  often  with 
scarce  a  thought  of  appealing  to  arms.  Peace  is  fast  be- 
coming the  settled  policy  of  Christendom  ;  and,  should  this 
policy  continue  much  longer,  it  may  become  almost  impos- 
sible to  involve  its  nations  again  in  blood,  and  quite  easy  to 
introduce  some  permanent  mode  of  adjusting  their  disputes 
without  the  sword.  The  general  peace  of  Christendom  since 
1815,  has  resulted  very  much  from  the  efforts  and  influen- 
ces which  together  constitute  the  cause  of  peace ;  and  we 
might  mention  instances  in  which  they  have,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  such  men  as  the  venerable  John  Quincy  Adams, 
been  the  means  of  saving  our  own  country  from  war. 

Our  encouragment  is  most  ample ;  and,  since  the  time 
has  fully  come  for  a  more  vigorous  and  hopeful  prosecution 
of  this  enterprise,  we  would  appeal  to  our  friends  for  the  aid 
which  is  just  as  necessary  in  this  cause  as  in  any  other. 
We  must  enlighten  the  people  ;  we  must  bring  the  subject 
before  rulers ;  we  must  employ  agents,  and  send  forth  lec- 
turers ;  we  must  issue  a  variety  of  publications,  and  scatter 
tracts,  periodicals  and  volumes  through  the  land. 

All  this  will  require  money  as  well  as  personal  efforts ; 
and  for  both  we  appeal  to  the  friends  of  peace  especiidly  in 
our  cities.  Every  argument  applicable  to  others,  will  apply 
with  equal  force  to  yourselves.  Does  war  suspend  or  de- 
range business,  cripple  every  department  of  industry,  and 
dry  up  all  the  great  sources  of  wealth  ?  Does  it  waste 
property  by  millions,  butcher  men  by  thousands,  and  sweep 
in  fire  and  blood  over  whole  empires  1  Are  its  laurels 
steeped  in  the  tears  of  countless  widows  and  orphans  ?  Is 
it  a  mass  of  abominations,  a  source  of  mischief  and  misery 
to  nearly  all  concerned  I     Does  it  trample  on  the  Sabbath, 


127  APPEAL   TO   CITIES*  8 

and  withhold  or  neutralize  the  means  of  grace,  and  thwart 
almost  every  effort  for  the  salvation  of  men  in  Christian  or 
pagan  lands  ?  Is  it  a  sink  of  pollution,  a  hot-bed  of  the 
most  loathsome  vices  and  the  foulest  crimes  1  All  these 
arguments  against  war  will  apply  to  you  with  peculiar  force, 
since  the  largest  share  of  its  evils  fall  invariably  on  cities. 

Look  at  the  facts  in  the  case.  All  must  suffer  from  war, 
but  the  city  far  more  than  the  country.  Review  its  history, 
and  say  where  have  fallen  the  hottest  and  heaviest  thunder- 
bolts of  its  wrath?  Ask  of  Tyre  and  Jerusalem,  of  Carthage, 
Rome  and  Moscow.  What  mean  the  war-ships  anchored 
in  your  harbors,  or  the  forts  and  batteries  guarding  the  en- 
trance to  your  wharves?  The  chief  treasures  of  the  land 
are  deposited  in  your  vaults,  and  the  main-springs  of  its 
business  lie  in  your  ships,  and  stores,  and  work-shops. 
Where  does  war  seek  its  plunder  ?  In  the  city.  Where 
does  it  revel  in  unbridled  debauchery  ?  Where  do  you  find 
its  famine  and  pestilence,  its  carnage  and  conflagration? 
In  cities.  They  are  the  hinges  of  war,  the  first  objects  of 
its  assaults,  and  the  chief  victims  of  its  vengeance. 

So  it  must  be.  Our  cities,  the  store-houses  of  the  world, 
and  the  main-springs  of  its  enterprise  and  prosperity,  must 
ever  be  exposed  to  the  brunt  of  war,  and  draw  down  upon 
themselves  the  first  and  fiercest  thunder-bolts  of  the  storm. 
Ail  immense  amount  of  property,  owned  mostly  in  our  cities, 
is  constantly  afloat  on  the  ocean,  and  would  be  liable,  on 
the  approach  of  war,  to  instant  capture.  Our  whale-ships, 
our  merchant-men  in  the  East  Indies,  all  our  most  richly 
ladened  vessels,  some  of  them  with  cargoes  worth  each  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  would  be  too  far  from  home  to  escape 
the  tempest  by  a  speedy  return,  and  would  thus  fall  an  easy 
prey  to  the  public  and  private  cruisers  that  would  at  once 
be  scouring  the  whole  ocean.  In  our  last  war  of  little  more 
than  two  years'  duration,  (1812-4,)  nearly  three  thousand 
English  merchant  vessels  were  said  to  have  been  captured 
by  the  Americans,  probably  not  less  than  five  thousand  on 
both  sides  ;  a  loss  perhaps  of  fifty  millions  a  year,  and  nearly 
all  from  our  cities.  • 

Nor  is  this  the  worst  of  your  case ;  for  a  blight  would 
soon  come  upon  nearly  all  your  interests.  Your  stocks 
would  fall ;  your  banks  would  fail ;  your  vessels  would  rot 
at  your  wharves;  your  stores  and  workshops  would  be 
closed ;  the  grass  would  ere-long  grow  in  streets  now  worn 
with  the  ceaseless  tread  of  business ;  nearly  every  species 


4  APPEAL   TO    CITIES.  128 

of  property  would  immediately  sink  in  value  from  twenty 
to  fifty  per  cent. ;  many  of  your  merchants  would  become 
bankrupts,  and  most  of  your  mechanics  must  either  starve 
for  want  of  employment,  or  flee  into  the  country  for  bread. 
With  so  much  at  stake,  will  not  the  city  come  to  the  aid 
of  a  cause  which  aims  to  avert  such  evils  ? 

Look  at  the  comparative  ability  of  cities.  They  are  the 
main  depositories  of  wealth.  The  city  of  Boston,  with  less 
than  a  seventh  part  of  the  population,  was  estimated  (1840) 
to  contain  a  third  of  all  the  property  in  Massachusetts,  or 
three  times  as  much,  in  proportion  to  her  numbers,  as  the 
country.  Truly  then  the  city  is  by  far  the  most  able  to 
give.  The  surplus  wealth  of  the  world  is  chiefly  in  its 
cities ;  and  to  these  should  we  therefore  go  for  the  means 
of  sustaining  every  good  cause,  but  especially  one  in  which 
they  have  so  deep  an  interest. 

We  ?nust  gain  these  hinges  of  the  world.  In  them  will 
be  found  the  master-spirits  of  the  age — our  ablest  lawyers, 
physicians  and  preachers ;  not  a  few  of  our  most  gifted  and 
highly  cultivated  minds ;  our  authors,  and  editors,  and 
statesmen,  who  give  law  to  public  opinion  ;  the  chief  offices 
of  government,  with  the  multitude  of  their  dependencies, 
and  the  ever-teeming  press  with  the  vast  amount  of  its 
weekly  and  daily  issues  all  over  the  land.  In  the  single 
city  of  New  York,  nearly  a  million  of  publications  are  sup- 
posed (1845)  to  issue  from  the  press  every  week!  What 
then  must  be  the  combined  influence  of  all  the  great  cities 
through  Christendom  ?  It  must  of  course  decide  every 
question  of  peace  or  war.  They  pitch  the  tune,  and  all  the 
rest  follow.  Let  London  and  Paris,  Rome  and  Vienna, 
Boston  and  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore  and  New 
Orleans,  go  for  peace,  or  for  war ;  and  not  all  the  remaining 
millions  in  their  respective  countries,  could  turn  the  scale. 

Already  has  the  country  taken  hold  of  this  cause  in 
earnest ;  and  now  we  come  to  our  cities,  and  ask  them  to 
share  in  this  great  and  good  work.  The  cause  is  peculiarly 
your  own  ;  and  will  you  not  give  it  your  countenance,  your 
advocacy,  your  mone>  ?  None  of  these  do  we  ask  you  to 
withdraw  from  any  other  good  cause ;  but  does  not  this 
cause  now  deserve  a  much  larger  share  of  your  aid  than  it 
has  ever  yet  received?  Are  not  its  claims  upon  you  fair, 
unquestionable  and  urgent  ?     Shall  it  plead  in  vain  ? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XVI. 

WAR  INCONSISTENT  WITH  CHRISTIANITY. 

BY   REV.  HOWARD    MALCOM,   D.  D., 

PRESIDENT  OF  GEORGETOWN  COLLEGE,  KY. 

The  war  spirit  is  so  wrought  into  the  texture  of  govern- 
ments, and  the  habits  of  national  thinking,  and  even  into 
our  very  festivals  and  pomps,  that  its  occasional  recurrence 
is  deemed  a  matter  of  unavoidable  necessity.  Even  the 
friends  of  man's  highest  welfare  seem  to  regard  a  general 
pacification  of  the  world  as  a  mere  Utopian  scheme,  and 
choose  to  lend  their  energies  and  prayers  to  objects  which 
seem  of  more  probable  attainment.  This  apathy  and  in- 
credulity are  to  be  overcome. 

It  is  not  intended  here  to  enter  upon  the  question,  on 
which  good  men  may  differ  in  opinion,  whether  defensive 
war  may  in  any  case  be  justified,  nor  upon  a  regular  dis- 
cussion of  the  general  subject ;  but  merely  to  offer  a  few 
thoughts  to  show  how  utterly  at  variance  the  spirit  of  war 
is  with  truth  and  righteousness. 

1.  It  contradicts  the  genius  and  intention  of  Christianity. 

Christianity  requires  us  to  seek  to  amend  the  condition 
of  man.  But  war  cannot  do  this.  The  world  is  no  better 
for  all  the  wars  of  five  thousand  years.  Christianity,  if  it 
prevailed,  would  make  the  earth  a  paradise.  War,  where 
it  prevails,  makes  it  a  slaughter-house,  a  den  of  thieves,  a 
brothel,  a  hell.  Christianity  cancels  the  laws  of  retaliation. 
War  is  based  upon  that  very  principle.  Christianity  is  the 
remedy  for  all  human  woes.  War  produces  every  wo 
known  to  man. 

The  causes  of  war,  as  well  as  war  itself,  are  contrary  to 
the  gospel.  It  originates  in  the  worst  passions  and  the 
worst  aims.  We  may  always  trace  it  to  the  thirst  of  re- 
venge, the  acquisition  of  territory,  the  monopoly  of  com- 
merce, the  quarrels  of  kings,  the  intrigues  of  ministers,  the 
coercion  of  religious  opinion,  the  acquisition  of  disputed 
crowns,  or  some  other  source  equally  culpable.  Never  has 
any  war,  devised  by  man,  been  founded  on  holy  tempers 
and  Christian  principles. 

All  the  features, — all  the  concomitants, — all  the  results 
of  war,  are  the  opposite  of  the  features,  the  concomitants, 

p.  T.       NO.  XVI. 


5!  WAR    INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  130 

the  results  of  Christianity.  The  two  systems  conflict  in 
every  point,  irreconcilably  and  eternally. 

2.    \Var  sets  at  nought  the  example  of  Jesus. 

One  of  Christ's  laws  is,  *'  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly."  His  conduct  was  always  pacific.  He  became 
invisible  when  the  Nazarites  sought  to  cast  him  down  from 
their  precipice.  When  a  troop  came  to  arrest  him,  he  struck 
them  down,  but  not  dead.  His  constant  declaration  was, 
that  he  '  came  not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save.' 

True,  he  once  instructed  his  disciples  to  buy  swords, 
telling  them  that  they  were  going  forth  into  a  world  of  ene- 
mies. But  the  whole  passage  shows  he  meant  to  speak  by 
parable.  They  answer,  **  Here  are  two  swords."  He 
replies  instantly,  "It  is  enough."  How  could  two  swords 
have  been  enough  for  twelve  apostles,  if  he  had  spoken 
literally  ?  Nay,  when  Peter  used  one  of  these,  it  was  too 
much ;  Christ  bade  him,  '*  Put  up  thy  sword,"  and  healed 
the  wound.  He  meant  to  show  the  apostles  their  danger, 
not  their  remedy ;  for  they  were  going  as  "  sheep  among 
wolves."  His  metaphor  was  indeed  misunderstood,  as  it  was 
when  he  said,  **  Beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees,"  and 
they  thought  he  meant  to  reprove  them  for  having  no  bread. 

Once  he  drove  men  from  the  temple  ;  but  it  was  with 
"  a  scourge  of  small  cords,"  and  a  gentle  doom  it  was, 
compared  to  their  deserts.  He  expressly  said  his  servants 
would  not  fight,  because  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world. 
We  find  in  his  example  no  instances  of  true  severity.  His 
whole  life  was  benevolence  personified.  He  was  the  Prince 
OF  Peace. 

Do  we  forget  that  Christ  is  our  example  ?  Whatever  is 
right  for  us  to  do,  would,  in  general,  have  been  right  for 
him.  Imagine  the  Redeemer  robed  in  the  trappings  of  a 
man  of  blood,  leading  on  columns  to  slaughter,  laying  a 
country  waste,  setting  fire  to  cities,  storming  fortresses,  and 
consigning  tens  of  thousands  to  wounds  and  anguish,  death 
and  damnation,  just  to  define  some  point  of  policy,  to  decide 
some  kingly  quarrel,  to  enlarge  some  boundary,  or  avenge 
some  insult.  Could  "  meekness  and  lowliness"  be  learned 
from  him  thus  engaged  ? 

There  is  no  rank  or  position  in  an  army  compatible  with 
the  character  of  Christ.  It  is  most  certain  that  we  gather 
no  army  lessons  from  him  who  **  came  to  bind  up  the 
broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  to 
comfort  all  that  mourn."     It  is  most  certain  that  no  man, 


131  WAR    INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  3 

who  makes  fighting  his  profession,  can  find  authority  in  the 
example  of  our  Lord. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  on  this  point.  It  will  be 
conceded.  No  warrior  thinks  of  making  Christ  his  pattern. 
How  then  can  a  follower  of  Christ  overlook  the  inconsis- 
tency between  the  profession  of  religion,  and  the  profession 
of  arms  ? 

3.  War  is  not  only  inconsistent  with  the  general  structure 
and  nature  of  Christianity,  and  the  example  of  Jesus  ;  hut 
it  violates  all  the  express  precepts  of  the  New  Testament. 

Even  the  Old  Testament  does  not  sanction  war  as  a 
custom.  In  each  case  of  lawful  war,  it  was  entered  on  by 
express  command.  If  such  authority  were  now  given,  we 
might  worthily  take  up  arms.  But  without  it,  how  can  we 
violate  both  the  genius  and  precepts  of  our  religion,  and 
set  at  nought  the  example  of  a  Divine  guide?  It  should  be 
remembered,  that  in  no  case,  even  under  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, was  war  appointed  to  decide  doubtful  questions,  or  to 
settle  quarrels,  but  to  inflict  national  punishment.  They 
were  intended,  as  are  pestilence  and  famine,  to  chastise 
nations  guilty  of  provoking  God.  Such  is  never  the  pretext 
of  modern  war  ;  and  if  it  were,  it  would  require  Divine 
authority,  vi^hich,  as  has  just  been  said,  would  induce  even 
members  of  the  Peace  Society  to  fight. 

As  to  the  New  Testament,  a  multitude  of  precepts  might 
be  quoted.  "  Ye  have  heard,  an  eye  for  an  eye ;  but  I  say 
unto  you,  resist  not  evil. — Follow  peace  with  all  men. — 
Love  one  another. — Do  justice,  love  mercy. — Love  your 
enemies. — Follow  righteousness,  faith,  charity,  peace. — 
Return  good  for  evil. — Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and 
anger,  and  clamor,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from 
you,  with  all  malice ;  and  be  ye  kind  one  toward  another, 
tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  another,  even  as  God,  for 
Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven  you. — If  my  kingdom  were  of 
this  world,  then  would  my  servants  fight. — Be  not  overcome 
of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  adduce  more  of  these  passages.  All 
know  how  much  they  abound  in  the  New  Testament. 
There  they  stand !  No  interpretation  can  nullify  their 
force,  or  pervert  their  application.  In  any  sense  the  words 
will  bear,  they  forbid  war.  If  language  have  any  force, 
they  equally  forbid  retaliation.  Yet  this  is  always  advanced 
as  the  very  best  pretext  for  war,  and  is  more  frequently  the 
avowed  reason  than  any  other  ! 


4  WAR   INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  132 

The  preceding  quotations  relate  to  the  single  point  of 
fighting.  But  contending  nations  and  armies  violate  tvery 
precept  of  the  gospel.  Rehearse  all  the  catalogue  of  graces, 
and  mark  how  we  are  enjoined  to  be  meek,  lowly,  peace- 
able, easy  to  be  entreated,  gentle,  thinking  no  evil,  merci- 
ful, slow  to  auger,  given  to  quietness,  knowledge,  patience, 
temperance,  prayer.     War  sets  them  all  at  nought ! 

Of  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  five  benedictions  are  upon 
the  poor  in  spirit,  the  meek,  the  merciful,  and  the  peace- 
makers. Two  others  are  upon  the  persecuted  and  reviled. 
These  include  all  but  two  of  the  entire  list,  and  the  others 
regard  those  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  and 
the  pure  in  heart.  The  professed  warrior,  therefore,  shuts 
himself  out  from  all  these  benedictions  !  The  discourse 
then  declares  that  not  only  killing,  but  anger,  is  murder. 
It  expressly  revokes  the  law  of  retaliation,  and,  exploding 
the  traditionary  rule  of  loving  ou»  neighbor,  and  hating  our 
enemy,  requires  us  to  love  our  enemies,  and  do  good  to 
them  which  despitefully  use  us.  Afterwards,  in  presenting 
a  form  of  prayer,  it  not  only  teaches  us  to  say,  "  forgive  us 
our  trespasses,  as  we  forgive  those  that  trespass  against  us," 
but,  **  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  neither  will 
your  heavenly  Father  forgive  you."  What  a  peace  sermon 
is  here  !  What  modern  peace  society  goes  farther  than  this  ? 

The  irresponsible  feelings  of  a  regular  soldier  are  neces- 
sarily wrong.  He  makes  war  a  trade,  and  is  ready  to  fight 
any  nation,  or  any  part  of  his  own  nation,  as  he  is  sent.  He 
must  have  no  mind  of  his  own.  He  is  to  wheel,  march, 
load,  fire,  advance  or  flee,  just  as  he  is  bidden,  and  because 
he  is  bidden.  In  the  language  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  "  the 
breaking  of  men  to  military  discipline,  is  breaking  their 
spirits  to  passive  obedience."  The  nearer  a  soldier  comes 
to  a  mere  machine,  the  better  soldier  he  makes.  Is  this 
right  for  a  Christian  ?  Is  it  compatible  with  his  duty  to 
"  examine  all  things,  and  hold  fast  that  which  is  good  ?" 

,The  contempt  of  life,  which  is  necessary  to  a  brave  sol- 
dier, is  sin.  Life  is  our  probation, — our  period  of  prelimi- 
nary service  to  the  great  God.  No  man  should  despise  it. 
He  who  masters  the  fear  of  death,  must  do  it  either  by 
religious  influence,  or  by  rejecting  the  fear  of  God,  and  all 
concern  for  the  future  state  of  his  soul.  That  there  are 
religious  soldiers,  is  true  ;  but  they  are  far  too  few  to  give 
character  to  an  army.  They  are  mere  exceptions  to  the 
general  military  character.     The  contempt  of  life,  which 


133  WAR    INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  5 

distinguishes  the  veteran,  is  itself  a  great  sin,  and  is  induced 
by  the  preceding  great  sin  of  casting  oif  the  fear  of  God, 
and  concern  for  the  soul. 

What  gospel  precept  is  there,  which  he  who  makes  war 
a  profession,  is  not  at  times  compelled  to  violate?  What 
Christian  grace  is  there,  which  would  not  depreciate  him 
for  his  trade  of  death  ? 

Some  graces,  it  is  confessed,  are  convenient  in  camp; 
as  when  a  soldier  acts  as  a  servant  or  a  laborer.  If  he  have 
charge  of  a  horse,  or  a  wardrobe,  it  is  desired  that  he  pos- 
sess honesty,  meekness,  and  faithfulness.  But  these  quali- 
ties spoil  him  for  the  field.  He  must  then  cast  away  meek- 
ness, and  fight.  He  must  cast  away  honesty,  and  forage. 
He  must  cast  away  forgiveness,  and  revenge  his  country. 
He  must  not  return  good  for  evil,  but  blow  for  blow,  wound 
for  wound.  Thus,  when  we  take  the  common  soldier 
individually,  we  find  him  compelled  to  violate  every  pre- 
cept of  his  religion. 

The  whole  structure  of  an  army  is  in  violation  of  New 
Testament  precepts.  '  What  absolute  despotism  !  What 
division  of  rank  by  nice  gradations  !  "  Condescending  to 
men  of  low  estate  "  would  spoil  discipline.  *'  Esteeming 
others  better  than  ourselves"  would  degrade  the  officers. 
Instead  of  humility,  must  be  gay  trappings.  Instead  of 
Christ's  law  of  love,  must  be  man's  rule  of  honor.  Instead 
of  examining  all  things,  the  soldier  must  be  like  a  trained 
blood-hound,  ready  to  be  let  loose  against  any  foe.  Instead 
of  returning  good  foY  evil,  the  army  is  organized  expressly 
to  return  injuries  with  interest. 

Survey  an  army  prepared  for  battle.  See  the  cannons, 
niMsquets,  mortars,  swords,  drums,  trumpets  and  flags.  Do 
these  men  look  like  Christians  ?  Do  they  talk  like  followers 
of  the  meek  and  lowly  Son  of  God  ?  Are  they  prepared  to 
act  like  the  friends  of  the  human  race,  and  like  followers  of 
God,  as  dear  children  seeking  to  bring  all  men  to  the  know- 
ledge of  him  1  Are  their  feelings  toward  the  opposite  host 
like  those  which  are  produced  by  ''fervent  love"  out  of 
"  a  pure  heart?" 

Observe  an  army  in  the  hour  of  battle.  See  attacks  and 
retreats,  battalions  annihilated,  commanders  falling,  shouts 
of  onset,  groans  of  death,  horses  trampling  the  fallen,  limbs 
flying  in  the  air,  suffocating  smoke,  thundering  artillery, 
thousands  smarting  in  the  agony  of  death,  and  none  to  ad- 
minister a  cup  of  water.     Do  the  precepts  of  Christianity 


6  WAR    INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  134 

authorize  such  a  scene  ?  Would  such  an  exhibition  ever 
grow  out  of  its  legitimate  effects  ? 

Inspect  the  field  when  all  is  over.  The  harvest  tram- 
pled and  destroyed,  houses  smoking  in  ruin,  the  mangled 
and  slain  strewed  among  dead  horses,  and  broken  gun-car- 
riages !  Prowlers  stripping  booty  even  from  the  warm 
bodies  of  the  dying  !  Jackals  lurking  around,  and  birds  of 
prey  wheeling  above  !  Here  and  there  a  wretched  widow, 
,or  an  anxious  wife,  seeking  her  loved  one  among  the  dead 
and  dying  !  Does  all  this  look  as  if  Christians  had  there 
been  serving  their  Master,  the  God  of  mercy? 

Let  us  turn  our  eyes  to  the  ocean.  A  huge  ship,  brist- 
ling with  implements  of  death,  glides  quietly  along.  Pre- 
sently **  a  sail  !  "  is  echoed  from  sentinel  to  sentinel.  All 
on  board  catch  the  sound,  and  gaze  at  the  faint  outline. 
At  length,  she  is  discerned  to  be  a  ship  of  war,  and  all  strive 
to  discern  her  flag.  On  that  hangs  the  important  issue ! 
For  no  feud,  no  jealousy,  no  enmity  exists  between  the 
crews.  At  last  the  signd  is  discerned  to  be  that  of  a  foe. 
Immediately  what  a  scene  !  Decks  cleared  and  sanded, 
ports  opened,  tompions  out,  guns  arranged,  matches  lighted, 
and  every  preparation  made  for  a  work  of  death.  While 
waiting  the  moment  to  engage,  every  word  is  indication  of 
pride,  or  revenge,  or  daring,  or  wrath,  or  ambition. 

The  fight  begins !  Death  flies  with  every  shot.  Blood 
and  carnage  cover  the  decks.  The  rigging  is  cut  to  pieces, 
and  the  hull  is  bored  with  hot  shot.  Officers  are  picked 
off  by  sharp-shooters,  and  scores  of  common  men  perish  at 
their  posts.  At  length,  one  party  strikes,  and  the  strife  is 
stayed.  Perhaps,  ere  all  the  wounded  can  be  removed,  the 
noble  and  costly  ship  sinks  into  the  deep.  The  victorious, 
herself  almost  a  wreck,  commits  her  slain  to  the  deep,  and 
bears  on  towards  her  country  the  agonized,  the  crippled  and 
the  dying  of  both  ships.  What  a  scene  to  gratify  malignant 
demons !  What  distracting  tidings  does  she  bear  to  the  be- 
reaved at  home  !  What  pain  and  misery  does  she  carry 
within  her  !  In  all  this,  there  was  no  personal  malice,  no 
private  offence  given ;  nothing  was  known  of  one  another, 
except  from  the  respective  flags.  Could  enormity  be  more 
diabolical  and  cold  blooded? 

But  no  where  does  war  wear  such  horrors  as  in  a  siege. 
The  inhabitants  are  straitly  shut  up.  Business,  pleasure, 
education  and  intercourse  are  checked  ;  and  sorrow,  poverty, 
terror  and  distress  are  spread  abroad.     The  bombardment 


135  WAR   INCONSISTENT   WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  7 

begins.  Shells  explode  in  the  streets,  or  penetrate  the  roofs. 
Citizens  are  killed  in  the  streets,  and  soldiers  on  the  ram- 
parts. Women  and  children  retreat  to  cellars,  and  live  in 
all  discomfort.  Day  by  day  the  gloom  thickens.  All  news 
is  of  houses  burnt,  persons  killed,  prices  raised,  and  scarcity 
increased.  Gladly,  perhaps,  would  the  citizens  surrender  ; 
but  the  governor  is  inflexible.  At  length,  famine  is  threat- 
ened. The  laborer,  out  of  employment,  cannot  purchase  at 
such  prices,  and  his  family,  hitherto  accustomed  to  daily^ 
comforts,  fall  victims  to  rigorous  poverty.  Still  the  siege 
continues.  The  middling  classes  next  sink  to  beggary. 
Every  thing  is  sold  to  buy  a  little  food.  Anon,  breaches 
are  made  in  the  walls.  All  must  work,  amid  galling  fire,  to 
repair  them.  Mines  are  sprung,  blowing  houses  and  the 
occupants  into  the  air.  No  relief  comes.  Dead  animals, 
offal,  skins,  the  very  bodies  of  the  slain,  are  eaten.  Hun- 
dreds perish  in  desperate  sorties.  All  are  miserable.  The 
widow,  the  bereft  mother,  the  disappointed  bride,  and  the 
tender  orphan,  mourn  continually.  Pestilence  succeeds  to 
famine.  Thousands,  who  have  escaped  violence,  die  of  dis- 
ease. At  length,  the  city  is  taken  by  storm ;  pillage,  and 
perhaps  an  awful  conflagration,  succeed  ;  a  brutal  soldiery 
raven  among  the  virtuous  ;  and  the  indescribable  scene  ends 
in  permanent  poverty,  lamentation,  and  dishonor.  Is  this 
Christianity  ? 

We  will  close  by  a  confirmatory  picture  from  the  history 
of  the  peninsular  wars  of  Napoleon.  It  is  part  of  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  second  siege  of  Zaragossa: 

"  The  French  fought  their  way  into  the  entrance  of  this  ill-fated 
city  by  mining  and  exploding  one  house  after  another,  while  the 
inhabitants  were  confined  to  that  quarter  of  the  city  still  in  pos- 
session of  the  Spaniards,  who  were  crowded,  men,  women  and 
chil'dren,  into  the  cellars,  to  avoid  the  cannon  balls  and  bombs. 
Pestilence  broke  out  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and  when  once  begun, 
it  was  impossible  to  check  its  progress,  or  confine  it  to  one  quarter 
of  the  city.  It  was  not  long  before  more  than  thirty  hospitals 
were  established.  As  soon  as  one  was  destroyed  by  the  bom- 
bardment, the  patients  were  removed  to  some  other  building, 
which  was  in  a  state  to  afford  them  temporary  shelter,  and  thus 
the  infection  was  carried  into  every  part  of  Zaragossa.  The 
average  of  daily  deaths  fi-om  this  cause  was,  at  this  time,  not  less 
than  3iree  hundred  and  fifty.  Men  stretched  upon  straw,  in  help- 
less misery,  lay  breathing  tiieir  last,  and  with  their  dying  breath 
spreading  the  mortal  taint  of  their  own  disease,  without  medicines, 
food  or  attendance ;  for  the  ministers  of  charity  themselves  be- 


8  WAR    INCONSISTENT    WITH    CHRISTIANITY.  136 

came  the  victims  of  the  disease.  The  slightest  wound  produced 
gangrene  and  death  in  bodies  so  prepared  for  dissolution  by  dis- 
tress of  mind,  agitation,  and  want  of  proper  aliment  and  of  sleep ; 
for  there  was  no  respite,  either  by  day  or  night,  for  this  devoted 
city.  By  day,  it  was  involved  in  a  red  sulphuric  atmosphere 
of  smoke  and  dust,  which  hid  the  face  of  heaven ;  by  night  the 
fire  of  cannon  and  mortars,  and  th«  flames  of  burning  houses, 
kept  it  in  a  state  of  horrible  illumination.  The  cemeteries  could 
no  longer  afford  room  for  the  dead.  Large  pits  were  du^  to  re- 
ceive them  in  the  streets,  and  in  the  courts  of  the  public  buildings, 
.till  hands  were  wanted  for  the  labor ;  tliey  were  laid  before  3ie 
churches,  heaped  upon  one  another,  and  covered  with  sheets ;  and 
not  unfrequently  these  piles  of  mortality  were  struck  by  a  shell,  and 
the  shattered  bodies  scattered  in  all  directions.  When  the  French 
entered  the  city,  six  tJwusand  bodies  were  lying  in  the  streets  and 
trenches,  or  piled  up  in  heaps  before  the  churches. 

How  wonderful  that  Christians,  followers  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace,  should  concur  in  the  mad  idolatry  of  strife  !  How 
inconsistent !  Behold  a  man  rising  from  the  Lord's  supper, 
and  proceeding  to  array  himself  in  fantastic  robes  and  plumes, 
girding  on  him  the  instruments  of  human  butchery,  and 
drilling  himself  in  the  tactics  of  death  !  See  him  murdering 
fellow  Christians,  and  unprepared  sinners,  and  even  praying 
to  his  Redeemer  for  aid  in  the  endeavor  !  See  priest  and 
people  thronging  the  house  of  God  to  celebrate  bloody 
victories,  and  give  thanks  for  having  sent  thousands  to  their 
last  account,  with  all  their  sins  upon  their  head  ! 

Reader  !  is  not  this  stupendous  inconsistency  ?  Is  it  not 
time  you  reflected  on  this  subject  ?  Are  you  in  favor  of  the 
great  schemes  of  benevolence?  Then  come,  unite  in  at- 
tacking this  prolific  parent  of  abominations.  Let  your  voice, 
wherever  you  are,  be  lifted  up  to  spread  the  principle  of 
*'  peace  on  earth."  Blessed  principle  !  You  cannot  err  in 
trying  to  spread  its  influence.  You  cannot  err  in  lending 
your  aid  to  banish  from  the  earth  a  monster  of  pride,  cor- 
ruption, destructiveness,  misery  and  murder.  Take  your 
stand  as  the  advocate  of  peace.  Retire  from  military  train- 
ings, and  discard  the  horrid  thought  of  being  hired  to  rob, 
ravage  and  destroy.  Give  no  countenance  to  a  system 
which  could  not  continue  a  moment,  were  the  spirit  and 
precepts  of  Christianity  to  prevail  on  earth.  Let  all  around 
you  understand  that  you  are  as  conscientiously  peacrful,  as 
you  are  honest  or  pure. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,   BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XVII. 

WAR   UNLAWFUL 

UNDER   THE    CHRISTIAN  DISPENSATION. 

BY   JOSEPH   JOHN    GURNEY. 

Of  all  the  practices  which  lay  waste  the  welfare  of  men, 
there  is  none  which  operates  to  so  great  an  extent,  or  with 
so  prodigious  an  efficacy,  as  war.  Not  only  is  it  productive 
of  an  incalculable  amount  of  bodily  and  mental  suffering, 
but  it  is  also  a  moral  evil  of  the  very  deepest  dye.  "  From 
whence  come  wars  and  fightings  among  you  1 "  asked  the 
apostle  James.  "  Come  they  not  hence,  even  of  your  lusts 
which  war  in  your  members  ?  "  War,  then,  has  its  origin 
in  corrupt  passions ;  and,  arising  out  of  such  an  evil  root, 
this  tree  of  bitterness  seldom  fails  to  produce,  in  vast  abun- 
dance, the  fruits  of  malice,  wrath,  cruelty,  fraud,  rapine, 
lasciviousness,  confusion  and  murder. 

Although  few  persons  will  dispute  the  accuracy  of  this 
picture,  or  deny  the  general  position,  that  war  is  at  variance 
with  the  principles  of  Christianity,  it  is  still  a  singular 
fact,  that  the  Friends*  are  almost  the  only  class  of  Chris- 
tians who  regard  it  as  their  duty  entirely  to  abstain  from 
that  practice.  The  generality  of  professed  Christians  are 
accustomed  to  make  distinctions  between  one  kind  of  war 
and  another.  They  will  condemn  one  which  is  oppressive 
and  unjust,  advancing  in  this  respect  no  farther  than  the 
moralists  of  every  age ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
hesitate  as  little  in  expressing  their  approbation  of  wars 
which  are  defensive,  or  undertaken  in  a  just  cause. 

The  main  argument  from  Scripture  for  the  rectitude  of 
warfare  in  what  is  termed  a  just  cause,  is  the  divinely  sanc- 
tioned example  of  the  Israelites.  That  they  were  engaged 
in  many  wars  ;  that  those  wars  were  often  very  destructive, 
yet  carried  forward  under  the  direct  sanction  and  clear 
command  of  the  Almighty ;  are  points  which  no  reader  of 
the  Old  Testament  can  deny.     But  we  must  not  forget, 

*  We  hardly  need  inform  our  readers,  that  the  author  is  a  Quaker, 
one  of  the  most  eminent  among  his  brethren,  and  writes  here  in  vin- 
dication of  their  views  concerning  war.     We  abridge  his  essay,  but 
omit  none  of  his  views  or  arguments. — Am.  Ed. 
P.  T.      NO.  XVII. 


2  WAR   UNLAWFUL.  138 

that  the  wars  of  the  Israelites  differed  from  all  other  wars 
in  certain  very  important  particulars.  That  very  divine 
sanction  which  is  pleaded,  did  in  fact  distinguish  their  wars 
from  all  those  in  which  any  other  nation  is  known  to  have 
been  ever  engaged.  They  were  undertaken  in  pursuance 
of  God's  express  command,  and  directed  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  revealed  designs.  These  designs  had  a  two- 
fold object — the  temporal  preservation  and  prosperity  of  his 
peculiar  people,  and  the  punishment  and  destruction  of 
idolatrous  nations.  The  Israelites  were  sometimes  engaged 
in  war  without  any  direction  from  God  ;  but  such  of  their 
military  operations  as  were  sanctioned  of  the  Lord,  assumed 
the  character  of  a  work  of  obedience  and  faith.  They  went 
forth  to  battle  in  complinnce  with  his  command,  and  in 
reliance  upon  his  aid.  These  characteristics  of  their  war- 
fare were  attended  with  two  very  marked  consequences ; 
first,  that  their  conflicts,  so  far  from  being  attended  by  that 
destruction  of  moral  and  pious  feeling  which  is  so  generally 
the  effect  of  war,  were  often  accompanied  by  high  religious 
excellence  in  those  who  thus  fought  the  battles  of  the  Lord, 
as  in  the  case  of  Joshui,  the  Judges,  and  David ;  and 
secondly,  that  these  contests  were  followed  by  uniform 
success.  The  Lord  was  carrying  on  his  own  designs  by 
the  Israelites ;  and,  under  such  circumstances,  their  suc- 
cess afforded  an  evidence  of  his  approbation.  Now,  it  can- 
not be  predicated  even  of  the  justest  wars  among  other  na-' 
tions,  that  they  are  undertaken  by  the  direct  command  of 
Jehovah :  or  that  they  are  a  work  of  obedience  and  faith  ; 
or  that  they  are  often  accompanied  with  high  religious  ex- 
cellence in  those  who  undertake  them  ;  or  that  they  are  fol- 
lowed by  uniform  success.  Even  if  the  system  of  Israeli- 
tish  morals,  then,  was  still  in  force  without  alteration,  we 
could  not  justly  conclude  from  such  an  example,  that  war- 
fare, as  generally  practised,  is  in  any  case  consistent  with 
the  will  of  God. 

The  defenders  of  modern  warfare  plead,  also,  the  au- 
thority of  John  the  Baptist.  Various  classes  of  persons  re- 
sorted to  him  for  instruction  ;  and  among  others,  "  the  sol- 
diers demanded  of  him,  saying.  And  what  shall  we  do? 
And  he  said  unto  them.  Do  violence  to  no  man,  neither  ac- 
cuse any  falsely,  and  be  content  with  your  wages."  Since 
the  precept,  do  violence  to  no  man,  probably  related  to  their 
deportment  among  friends  and  allies,  it  may  be  allowed  that 
he  did  not  on  this  occasion  forbid  the  practice  of  fighting ; 


139  .         WAR   UNLAWFUL.  3 

but,  it  must  still  be  observed,  that  his  expressions  afford  no 
direct  encouragement  to  that  practice.  His  doctrine  is 
neutral.  The  question  whether  war  is  in  itself  lawful  or 
unlawful,  was  one  which  he  obviously  did  not  entertain. 
On  the  supposition  that  the  soldiers  would  continue  to  be 
soldiers,  he  confined  himself  to  recommending  a  gentle, 
orderly,  and  submissive  demeanor. 

But  John  the  Baptist,  though  the  forerunner  of  Christ, 
did  not  himself  belong  to  the  Christian  dispensation.  His 
moral  system  was  that  of  the  law;  and,  admitting  that  sys- 
tem to  continue  unchanged,  we  still  may  fairly  deny  that 
the  example  of  the  Hebrews,  or  the  expressions  of  John, 
afford  any  valid  authority  for  warfare  as  generally  prac- 
tised. Our  objection  to  every  species  of  war,  however, 
rests  principally  on  that  more  perfect  revelation  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  dispensation  of  the  gospel.  We  contend 
earnestly,  that  all  warfare  is  wholly  at  variance  with  the 
Christian  religion. 

In  support  of  this  position,  I  may  adduce  the  testimony 
of  the  prophets ;  for,  in  their  predictions  respecting  the 
gospel  dispensation,  they  frequently  allude  both  to  its  su- 
perior spirituality,  and  its  purer  morality.  Under  this  dis- 
pensation, says  Isaiah,  "  they  shall  heat  their  swords  into 
plough-shares,  and  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks  ;  nation 
shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  they 
learn  war  any  moreT  ii.  2 — 4.  The  prophet  Micah  re- 
peats the  same  prediction,  and  adds  "  they  shall  sit  every 
man  under  his  vine  and  under  his  fig-tree,  and  none  shall 
make  them  afraid."     iv.  1 — 4. 

The  times  here  foretold,  are  confessedly  those  of  the 
gospel,  and  are  elsewhere  described  in  similar  language.* 
In  Isa.  ix.  6,  the  Messiah  is  expressly  denominated  the 
''  Prince  of  Peace."  In  Isa.  xi.,  the  reign  of  Christ  is 
painted  in  glowing  colors,  as  accompanied  by  the  universal 
harmony  of  God's  creation.  Lastly,  in  Zech.  ix.  9, 10,  we 
read,  as  the  result  of  his  reign,  *'  I  will  cut  off  the  chariot 
from  Ejjhraim,  and  the  horse  from  Jerusalem,  and  the  battle 
bow  shall  be  cut  off;  and  he  shall  speak  peace  unto  the  hea- 
then ;  and  his  dominion  shcdl  be  from  sea  even  to  sea,  and 
from  the  river  even  to  the  ends  of  the  earth." 

In  these  passages,  a  total  cessation  from  war  is  described 
as  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  characteristics  of  Chris- 
tianity Such  a  consequence  is  represented  by  Isaiah  as 
arising  from  the  conversion  of  heathen  nations ;  and  who 


4  WAR   UNLAWLUL.  140 

ever  should  be  members  of  God's  true  church,  she  was  no 
longer  to  participate  in  the  warfare  of  the  world.  The 
chariot  was  to  be  cut  off  from  Ephraim,  and  the  war-horse 
from  Jerusalem.  For  the  full  accomplishment  of  these 
prophecies,  we  must,  indeed^  look  forward  to  a  period  yet 
to  come ;  but  the  inspired  writers  describe  this  complete, 
uninterrupted  peaceableness,  as  a  distinguishing  feature  of 
the  Christian  dispensation,  as  the  result  of  obedience  to  itjs 
law;  and  we  may  therefore  infer  that,  if  its  true  nature 
were  fully  understood,  and  its  laws  exactly  obeyed,  a  con- 
version to  our  holy  religion  would  be  uniformly  accom- 
panied with  entire  abstinence  from  war,  and  peace  thus  be- 
come exactly  co-extensive  with  Christianity  itself 

In  accordance  with  the  prophecies  I  have  quoted,  Chiis- 
tianity  promulgates  certain  moral  rules  which  would,  if 
faithfully  obeyed,  lead  to  the  results  predicted.  I  allude 
not  exclusively  to  those  divine  laws  which  condemn  aggres- 
sive warfare ;  for  these  laws  are  far  from  being  powerful 
enough  to  produce  the  effect  in  question.  They  were,  in- 
deed, commonly  admitted  in  the  world  long  before  the 
Christian  dispensation ;  but  never  have  they  been  found 
sufficient  to  convert  swords  into  plough-shares,  and  spears 
into  pruning-hooks.  In  point  of  fact,  the  distinction  drawn 
between  just  and  unjust  warfare,  is  in  most  cases  entirely 
nugatory ;  for  there  are  few  wars  which  are  not  defended, 
and  not  many  perhaps  which  the  persons  waging  thenrd<5 
not  believe  to  be  justified,  by  some  plea  of  self-preservation 
or  honorable  retribution.  Some  stronger  and  more  com- 
prehensive principles,  then,  were  obviously  needed  in  order 
to  the  accomplishment  of  this  great  end  ;  and  these  princi- 
ples are  unfolded  in  the  pure,  exalted  code  of  morality  re- 
vealed in  the  gospel.  They  are  the  non-resistance  of  inju- 
ries,  the  return  of  good  for  evil,  and  the  love  of  our  enemies. 

The  Lord  Jesus  himself  promulgated  these  principles  as 
distinguishing  his  own  dispensation  from  that  of  the  law 
"  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said.  An  eye  for  an  eye, 
and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth  ;  but  I  say  unto  you.  That  ye  resist 
not  evil ;  but  whosoever  shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  also.  Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath 
been  said,  ThDU  shalt  love  thy  neighbor,  and  hate  thine 
enemy  ;  but  I  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies,  bless  them 
that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for 
them  that  despitefully  use  you,  and  persecute  you,  that  ye 
may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven ; 


141  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  3 

for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good, 
and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust.  Be  ye 
therefore  perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is 
perfect."  So  also  Peter  commands  the  believers  not  to 
render  "  evil  for  evil,  nor  railing  for  railing;  but  contrari- 
wise, blessing."  Paul  holds  up  the  very  same  standard : 
"  Dearly  beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves;  but  rather  give 
place  unto  wrath ;  for  it  is  written,  Vengeance  is  mine ;  I 
will  repay,  saith  the  Lord.  Therefore,  if  thine  enendy 
hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink ;  for,  in  so 
doing,  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head.  Be  not 
overcome  of  evil ;  hut  overcome  evil  with  good" 

In  this  fundamental  law  of  the  gospel,  our  Lord  has  laid 
his  axe  to  the  root,  by  establishing  certain  principles  which, 
honestly  observed,  must  put  an  end  to  every  evil  practice. 
Of  this  nature  precisely  are  the  principles  we  are  now  con- 
sidering ;  and,  if  followed  up  with  true  consistency,  they 
cannot  fail  to  abolish  every  species  of  warfare.  The  great 
law  of  Christ  is  the  law  of  love ;  and,  since  no  kind  of 
war  can  ever  consist  with  this  love,  it  is  indisputable  that, 
where  the  latter  prevails  as  it  ought,  the  former  must  en- 
tirely cease. 

I  grant  that  the  above  precepts  of  our  Lord  are  addressed 
to  individuals ;  and  hence  the  clear  duty  of  individual  Chris- 
tians to  obey  them  on  every  occasion.  If  attacked,  insulted, 
injured,  persecuted,  they  ought  to  suffer  wrong,  to  revenge 
no  injury,  to  return  good  for  evil,  and  to  love  their  enemies. 
So  also,  if  exposed  to  the  calamities  of  war,  their  duty  re- 
mains unaltered.  If  the  sword  of  the  invader  be  lifted  up 
against  them,  the  precept  is  still,  Resist  not  evil.  If  the 
insults  and  injuries  of  the  carnal  warrior  be  heaped  upon 
them,  they  are  still  forbidden  to  avenge  themselves,  and  still 
commanded  to  pray  for  their  persecutors.  If  surrounded 
by  a  host  of  enemies  the  most  violent  and  malicious.  Chris- 
tian love  must  still  be  unbroken,  still  universal.  The  law 
of  Christ  then  requires  individuals  to  abstain  from  all  war- 
fare. So  the  early  Christians  did.  When  Julian  was  be- 
stowing upon  his  troops  a  largess  with  a  view  to  some  ap- 
proaching battle,  his  bounty  was  refused  by  Martin,  a  sol- 
dier previously  converted  to  Christianity.  "  Hitherto,"  said 
he,  "  I  have  fought  for  thee ;  permit^me  now  to  fight  for  my 
God.  I  am  the  soldier  of  Christ ;  for  me,  the  combat  is 
unlawful." 

The  soldier  retains  his  private  responsibility,  and  can 


"^  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  142 

never  dispossess  himself  of  his  individual  obligation  to  obey 
God.  But  the  unlawfulness  of  war  in  any  form,  is  equally 
evident  when  regarded  as  the  affair  of  nations.  Doubtless 
there  may  be  found  in  the  Scriptures  a  variety  of  injunc- 
tions applicable  to  men  only  as  individuals ;  but  it  is  one 
of  the  excellent  characteristics  of  the  Bible,  that  its  princi- 
ples are  of  universal  application  to  mankind,  whether  acting 
singly  as  individuals,  or  collectively  as  nations.  If  not  thus 
applicable,  national  crimes  might  be  committed  without  en- 
tailing any  national  guilt,  and  without  any  real  infraction  of 
the  revealed  will  of  God. 

Now,  among  these  eternal,  unchangeable  principles  of  the 
Bible,  is  that  of  universal  love.  The  law  of  God,  addressed 
alike  to  all  men,  plainly  says.  Resist  not  evil ;  revenge  not 
injuries ;  love  your  enemies.  Individuals,  and  nations 
consisting  of  individuals,  are  all  unquestionably  bound 
to  obey  this  law ;  and,  whether  it  is  the  act  of  an  individ- 
ual, or  a  nation,  the  transgression  of  the  law  is  sin.  Na- 
tions transgress  the  Christian  law  of  love,  and  commit  sin, 
when  they  declare  or  carry  on  war,  precisely  as  does  the 
private  duellist,  when  he  sends  or  accepts  a  challenge,  and 
deliberately  endeavors  to  destroy  his  neighbor.  The  man 
who  takes  any  part  in  national  warfare,  takes  a  part  also  in 
the  national  sin.  He  aids  and  abets  his  nation  in  breaking 
the  law  of  Christ.  So  far  then  is  the  authority  of  his  legis- 
lature, or  his  monarch,  from  justifying  his  engagement  in 
warfare,  that  he  canilot  obey  either,  ivithout  lidding  to  his 
private  transgression,  the  further  criminality  of  actively  pro- 
moting the  transgression  of  the  state. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  total  abstinence  from  warfare 
would  be  the  necessary  result  of  strict  adherence  to  the 
law  of  Christ.  But  one  of  the  precepts  already  cited,  bears 
a  specific,  peculiar  allusion  to  the  subject  of  war  :  **Fe 
have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  Thou  shall  love  thy  neigh- 
bor, and  hate  thine  enemy ;  but  I  say  unto  you.  Love  your 
enemies."  Here  is  a  direct,  avowed  contrast  between  the 
law  and  the  gospel.  In  calling  the  attention  of  his  hearers 
to  the  sayings  "  by  them  of  old  time,"  Christ  quoted  from 
the  law  of  Moses  itself;  and  it  was  with  that  law,  as  under- 
stood by  the  Jews,  that  he  compared  his  own  holier  system. 
Now  the  precepts  of  ancient  times  to  which  he  refers, — 
the  precepts  respecting  love  and  hatred, — probably  formed 
a  part  of  those  divine  edicts  which  were  delivered  to  the 
Israelites  by  Moses.      That  which  related  to  the  love  of 


143  WAR   UNLAWFUL.  Y 

their  neighbor,  is  recognized  at  once :  **  Thou  shalt  not 
avenge,  nor  bear  any  grudge  against  the  children  of  thy 
'people,  but  thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  Lev. 
xix.  18.  The  love  here  enjoined,  was  to  the  children  of 
the  people  of  Israel.  The  neighbor  to  be  loved  was  a 
fellow-countryman,  or,  if  a  stranger,  a  proselyte;  and 
the  precept  in  fact  commanded  no  more  than  that  the 
Israelites  should  love  one  another.  So  also  the  injunc- 
tion of  old,  that  the  Israelites  should  hate  their  ene- 
mies, was  exclusively  national.  They  were  not  permitted 
to  hate  their  private  enemies  in  the  same  favored  com- 
munity, but  were  enjoined  to  do  them  good  :  "  If  thou  meet 
thine  enemy's  ox  or  his  ass  going*  astray,  thou  shalt  surely 
bring  it  back  to  him  again."  But  they  were  to  hate  their 
national  enemies,  and  make  no  covenant  with  them :  "  Thou 
shalt  smite  them,  and  utterly  destroy  them ;  thou  shalt  make 
no  covenant  with  them,  nor  show  mercy  unto  them."  On 
another  occasion,  a  similar  injunction  was  delivered  re- 
specting the  Amalekites  :  "  Thou  shalt  blot  out  the  remem- 
brance of  Amalek  from  under  heaven." 

Such  was  the  hatred  enjoined  upon  ancient  Israel,  and 
thus  was  it  to  be  applied.  Now,  it  is  to  these  edicts,  that  the 
law  of  Christ  is  placed  in  opposition  :  "  But  I  say  unto  you, 
Loce  your  enemies."  True,  this  law  is  applicable  to  private 
life ;  but  it  was  principally  intended  to  discountenance  na- 
tional  enmities,  and  prevent  the  practice  of  war.  The  Is- 
raelites were  commanded  to  combat  and  destroy  the  nations 
who  were  enemies  alike  to  themselves  and  to  God.  Chris- 
tians are  introduced  to  a  purer,  more  lovely  system ;  their  law 
commands  them  to  be  the  friends  of  all  mankind.  If  sent 
forth  among  idolatrous  nations,  it  is  as  the  ministers  of  their 
restoration,  not  as  the  instruments  of  their  punishment ; 
and,  as  they  may  not  contend  with  the  sword  against  God's 
enemies,  much  less  may  they  wield  it  for  any  purpose  of 
their  own.  Armed  with  submission,  forbearance  and  long- 
suffering,  they  mu*st  secede  from  the  warfare  of  a  wrathful 
and  corrupt  world,  and,  whatever  the  aggravations  to  which 
they  are  exposed,  must  evince  themselves  to  be  the  meek, 
harmless,  benevolent  followers  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

I  know  of  nothing  in  the  New  Testament  which  has  any 
appearance  of  contravening  these  precepts,  but  a  single 
passage  in  the  gospel  of  Luke.  After  our  Lord's  paschal 
supper,  and  immediately  before  he  was  betrayed,  he  said  to 
his  disciples,  "  He  that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his  gar- 
ment, and   buy  one."      These   words,   superficially  con 


8  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  144 

Bidered,  may  be  deemed  to  inculcate  the  notion,  that  his 
followers  were  to  defend  themselves  and  their  religion  with 
the  sword ;  but  the  context,  and  the  circumstances  which 
followed,  evidently  decide  otherwise.  The  disciples,  ap- 
parently understanding  their  Lord  literally,  answered, 
"  Here  are  two  swords ;"  and  Jesus  replied,  '*  It  is  enough." 
In  declaring  that  two  swords  were  enough  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, he  offered  them  an  intelligible  hint,  that  he 
had  been  misunderstood  ;  but  the  opportunity  was  at  hand 
on  which  they  were  to  be  completely  undeceived.  The 
enemies  of  Jesus  approached,  armed  ;  whereupon  the  disci- 
ples said,  "  Lord,  shall  we  smite  with  the  sword  ? "  and  Peter, 
without  waiting  for  a  reply,  smote  the  servant  of  the  High 
Priest,  and  cut  off  his  ear.  Then  were  they  clearly  in- 
structed, that  it  was  their  duty  not  to  fight,  but  to  suffer 
wrong.  "  Suffer  ye  thus  far,"  said  he  to  Peter;  and  im- 
mediately afterwards  he  confirmed  his  doctrine  by  action — 
he  touched  the  wounded  man,  and  healed  him.  Then  he 
cried  out  to  Peter,  "  Put  up  thy  sword  into  the  sheath ;  the 
cup  which  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ? 
All  they  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  with  the  sword  " 
When  carried  before  Pilate,  he  plainly  declared,  that  his 
kingdom  was  such  as  neither  to  require  nor  allow  the  de- 
fence of  carnal  weapons.  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world.  If  my  kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  my 
servants  fight,  that  I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews." 

When  our  Lord,  therefore,  exhorted  hie  disciples  to  sell 
their  garments,  and  buy  swords,  his  precept  was  evidently 
not  to  be  understood  literally.  Such,  indeed,  is  the  explicit 
judgment  of  most  commentators ;  and  we  may  therefore 
conclude  either  with  Erasmus,  that- the  sword  of  which  our 
Lord  here  spake,  was  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  the  word  of 
God,  or  with  critics  in  general,  that  the  words  of  Jesus  im- 
ported only  a  general  warning  to  the  disciples,  that  their 
situation  was  about  to  be  greatly  changed ;  that,  deprived 
of  his  presence,  they  would  be  exposed  to  every  species  of 
difficulty,  become  the  objects  of  hatred  and  persecution, 
and  thus  be  driven  to  a  variety  of  expedients  in  providing 
for  their  own  maintenance  and  security. 

The  absolute  inconsistency  of  war  with  the  gospel,  was 
the  prevalent  belief  of  the  early  Christians.  Justin  Martyr, 
A.  D.  140,  quoting  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah  already  cited,  says, 
"  That  these  things  have  come  to  pass,  you  may  be  readily 
convinced ;  for  we  who  were  once  slayers  of  one  another, 
do  not  now  fight  against  our  enemies."     Irenaeus,  Bishop 


145  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  9 

of  Lyons,  167,  discusses  the  same  prophecy,  and  proves  its 
relation  to  our  Savior  by  the  fact,  that  the  followers  of  Jesus 
had  disused  the  weapons  of  war,  and  no  longer  knew  how 
to  fight.  Tertullian,  200,  indeed,  alludes  to  Christians  who 
were  engaged  in  military  pursuits,  but,  on  another  occa- 
sion, informs  us,  that  many  soldiers  quitted  those  pursuits 
in  consequence  of  their  conversion  to  Christianity ;  and 
repeatedly  expresses  his  own  opinion,  that  any  partici- 
pation in  war  is  unlawful  for  believers  in  Jesus,  not  only 
because  of  the  idolatrous  practices  in  the  Roman  armies, 
but  because  Christ  has  forbidden  the  use  of  the  sword, 
and  the  revenge  of  injuries.  Origen,  230,  in  his  work 
against  Celsus,  says,  *'  We  no  longer  take  up  the  sword 
against  any  nation,  nor  do  we  learn  any  more  to  make  war. 
We  have  become,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus,  the  children  of 
peace.  By  our  prayers,  we  fight  for  our  Icing  abundantly, 
but  take  no  part  in  his  wars,  even  though  he  urge  us." 

Traces  of  the  same  doctrine  and  practice  are  very  clearly 
marked  in  the  subsequent  history.  Under  the  reign  of  Dio- 
clesian,  300,  a  large  number  of  Christians  refused  to  serve 
in  the  army,  and,  in  consequence,  many  of  them  suffered 
martyrdom.  Now,  although  the  conduct  of  these  Christians 
might  arise  partly  from  their  religious  objections  to  the 
idolatrous  rites  at  that  time  mixed  up  with  the  military  sys- 
tem, it  is  probable  that  the  unlawfulness  of  war  itself  was 
also  a  principle  on  which  they  acted.  Thus  Lactantius, 
who  wrote  during  the  reign  of  this  very  emperor,  expressly 
asserts,  that  **  to  engage  in  war,  cannot  be  lawful  for  the 
righteous  man,  whose  warfare  is  that  of  righteousness  itself." 
In  the  twelfth  canon  of  the  Council  of  Nice  Leld  under  the 
reign  of  Constantine,  325,  a  long  period  of  excommu- 
nication is  attached  as  a  penalty  to  the  conduct  of  those 
persons  who,  having  once  renounced  the  military  calling, 
were  persuaded  by  the  force  of  bribes  to  return  to  it  "  like 
dogs  to  their  own  vomit."  Such  a  law  would  scarcely  have 
been  promulgated  under  the  reign  of  the  converted  Con- 
stantine, had  not  an  opinion  been  entertained  in  the  coun- 
cij,  that  icar  itself  is  inconsistent  with  the  highest  standard 
of  Christian  morality.  We  have  already  noticed  the 
declaration  of  Martin,  360,  that  it  was  unlawful  for  him  to 
fight  because  he  was  a  Christian ;  and  even  so  late  as  the 
middle  of  the  fifth  century.  Pope  Leo  declared  it  "  contrary 
to  the  rules  of  the  church,  that  persons  after  the  action  of 
penance,  should  revert  to  the  warfare  of  the  world." 

I  must,  however,  advert  to  another  principle,  viz.,  that 


10  WAa 'UNLAWFUL.  146 

human  life  is  sacred,  and  that  death  is  folloiccd  hy  infinite 
consequences.  The  Israelites  were  enjoined  to  inflict 
death ;  and  the  destruction  of  life,  when  thus  expressly 
authorized  by  the  Creator,  must  unquestionably  have  been 
right ;  but  the  sanction  thus  given  to  killing,  was  accom- 
panied with  a  comparatively  small  degree  of  illumination 
respecting  the  true  nature  of  life  and  death,  respecting  im- 
mortality and  future  retribution.  Bishop  Warburton  has 
endeavored  to  prove  that  the  Israelites  had  no  knowledge 
on  these  subjects;  and  it  is  sufficiently  evident  that  the  full 
revelation  of  these  important  truths  was  reserved  for  the 
gospel.  Those  who  read  the  declarations  of  Jesus,  can  no 
longer  doubt,  that  man  is  born  for  eternity  ;  that  when  his 
body  dies,  his  soul  ascends  into  Paradise,  or  is  cast  into  hell ; 
and  that  after  the  day  of  resurrection  and  final  judgment, 
we  shall  all  reap  the  full  eternal  reward  of  our  obedience 
or  our  rebellion.  Christians  thus  instructed,  must  ac- 
knowledge, that  the  future  welfare  of  an  individual  man  is 
of  greater  importance  than  the  present  merely  temporal 
prosperity  of  a  whole  nation ;  nor  can  they,  if  consistent 
with  themselves,  refuse  to  confess  that,  unless  sanctioned 
by  the  express  authority  of  Christ,  they  take  upon  them- 
selves a  most  unwarrantable  responsibility  when  they  cut 
short  the  days  of  their  neighbor,  and  transmit  him  to  the 
awful  realities  of  eternity.  Since  then  no  such  express  au- 
thority can  be  found  in  the  New  Testament ;  since,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  clearly  declared,  that  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
is  not  of  this  world,  and  that  his  followers  *^  war  not  after 
the  flesh,"  I  cannot  but  conclude,  that  for  one  man  to  kill 
another  under  any  circumstances,  is  utterly  unlawful  under 
the  Christian  dispensation.* 

Such,  then,  are  the  grounds  on  which  we  consider  it 
our  duty  to  abstain  entirely  from  war.  On  a  review 
of  the  whole  argument,  the  reader  will  recollect,  that  the 
wars  of  the  Israelites  bore  so  peculiar  a  character  as  to 
afford  no  real  sanction  to  those  of  other  nations,  even  if  the 
Jewish  dispensation  were  still  continued  ;  and  also  that  the 
precept  of  John  the  Baptist  to  soldiers  appears  to  be  merely 

*  This  doctrine  o^the  strict  inviolahility  of  human  life  is  adopted  by 
onlv  a  part  of  the  believers  in  the  contrariety  of  all  war  to  the  gospel ^ 
and  IS  not  made  the  basis  of  operations  in  the  cause  of  peace.  Even 
William  Penn,  while  strong  enough  against  all  7car,  still  incorporated, 
as  the  author  himself  states  in  a  note,  the  penalty  of  death  in  the  laws 
of  his  colony,  though  the  Quakers  now  are  (pretty  generally  opposed 
to  the  taking  of  human  life  in  any  case.— Am.  Ed. 


147  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  11 

neutral  on  the  subject,  but  that  our  opinion  of  the  unlaw- 
fulness of  all  war  rests  principally  on  the  moral  law  as  re- 
vealed  in  the  gospel;  that  abstinence  from  warfare  was  pre- 
dicted as  one  of  its  principal  characteristics ;  that  it  fully 
unfolds  the  principles  which  alone  are  sufficiently  power- 
ful to  produce  this  effect,  namely,  those  of  suffering  wrong, 
returning  good  for  evil,  and  loving  our  enemies ;  that,  since 
these  principles  were  so  clearly  promulgated  by  Jesus  and 
his  Apostles,  the  individual  who  engages  in  any  kind  of 
warfare,  plainly  infringes  the  divine  law ;  th%t  nations,  when 
carrying  on  war,  do  also  infringe  that  law ;  that  the  Chris- 
tian who  fights  for  his  prince  or  his  country,  not  only  com- 
mits sin  in  his  own  person,  but  aids  and  abets  the  national 
transgression  ;  that  the  injunction  of  Christ  to  his  followers 
respecting  the  love  of  their  enemies,  was  specifically  directed 
SLgainst  national  wai^s ;  that,  when  our  Lord  exhorted  his 
disciples  to  sell  their  garments,  and  buy  swords,  his  expres- 
sions were  evidently  to  be  understood  figuratively ;  that  our 
sentiments  on  this  subject,  so  far  from  being  new  and  ex- 
traordinary, form  a  striking  and  prevalent  feature  in  the 
early  Christians ;  and  lastly,  that  the  practice  of  warfare  is 
directly  at  variance  with  the  full  light  enjoyed  under  the 
gospel  respecting  life,  death  and  eternity. 

Notwithstanding  the  clearness  and  importance  of  these 
principles,  it  is  continually  pleaded  that  wars  are  often  ex- 
pedient, and  sometimes  absolutely  necessary.  To  such  a 
plea  it  might  be  sufficient  to  answer,  that  nothing  is  so  ex- 
pedient, nothing  so  desirable,  nothing  so  necessary,  either 
for  individuals  or  for  nations,  as  conformity  with  the  re- 
vealed will  of  God.  Let  Christians,  then,  take-  a  survey 
of  Europe  during  the  last  eighteen  centuries,  and  impar- 
tially examine  how  many  of  its  wars  have  been  really  ex- 
pedient or  necessary.  Far  the  greater  part  of  them 
have  in  fact  been,  even  in  a  political  point  of  view,  much 
more  hurtful  than  useful  to  all  the  parties.  Where,  for  in- 
stance, has  England  found  an  equivalent  for  the  almost  in- 
finite waste  of  blood  and  treasure  in  her  many  wars? 
Must  not  impartial  history  decide,  that  almost  the  whole  of 
her  wars  have  in  fact  been  waged  against  imaginary  dangers, 
might  have  been  avoided,  and  have  turned  out  to  be 
extensively  injurious  to  herself?  If  Christians  would  ab- 
stain from  all  wars  which  have  no  better  foundation  than  a 
false  worldly  honor,  from  all  which  are  not  absolutely  inevi- 
table, from  all  which  are  in  reality  injurious  to  their  country, 
they  would  take  a  very  important  step  towards  that  entirely 


1«J  WAR    UNLAWFUL.  148 

peJiceable  conduct  which  we  uphold  and  defend.  Even 
after  such  a  step,  however,  war  might  seem  on  certain  occa- 
sions to  be  actually  necessary  for  mere  defence  and  self-pre- 
servation ;  and,  if  we  admit  the  lax  morality  so  generally 
prevalent,  we  must  confess  that  war,  in  such  cases,  is 
right,  and  cannot  be  avoided;  but  for  those  who  "follow 
the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth,"  war  is  never  right.  It  is 
always  their  duty  to  obey  hishigh  and  holy  law,  to  suffer 
wrong,  to  return  good  for  evil,  to  love  their  enemies.  If, 
in  consequence- of  their  obedience  to  this  law,  they  ap- 
prehend themselves  surrounded  with  many  dangers,  let 
them  still  place  undivided  reliance  upon  the  power  and 
benevolence  of  their  God  and  Savior.  It  may  be  his  good 
pleasure  to  deliver  them  from  the  peril,  or  let  them  fall  a 
sacrifice  ;  but,  whatever  the  result,  so  long  as  they  obey  his 
law,  so  long  are  they  safe  in  his  hands. 

Godliness,  however,  has  the  promise  of  this  life,  as  well 
as  of  that  which  is  to  come ;  and  we  may  therefore  enter- 
tain a  reasonable  confidence,  that  our  temporal  happiness 
and  safety,  as  well  as  our  growth  in  grace,  will  in  general 
be  promoted  by  obedience  to  our  heavenly  Father.  These 
observations  are  peculiarly  applicable  to  those  particulars  in 
the  divine  law  which  preclude  all  warfare.  No  weapons 
of  self-defence  will  be  found  so  efficacious  as  Christian 
meekness,  kindness  and  forbearance,  the  suffering  of  in- 
juries, the  absence  of  revenge,  the  return  of  good  for  evil, 
and  the  ever-operating  love  of  God  and  man.  Those  who 
regulate  their  life  according  to  these  principles,  have  little 
reason  to  fear  violence.  Such  has  often  been  the  lot  of 
Christian  individuals,  and  such  might  also  be  the  experience 
of  Christian  nations.  When  we  consider  the  still  degraded 
condition  of  mankind,  we  can  hardly  look  at  present  for  the 
trial  of  this  experiment ;  but  were  there  a  people  who  would 
boldly  conform  their  national  conduct  to  the  rules  of  Christ, 
lay  aside  the  weapons  of  carnal  warfare,  and  proclaim 
the  principles  of  universal  peace,  suffer  wrong  with  con- 
descension, abstain  from  all  retaliation,  return  good  for  evil, 
and  diligently  promote  the  welfare  of  all  men;  I  am  fully 
persuaded,  that  such  a  people  would  not  only  dwell  in  abso- 
lute safety,  but  would  be  blessed  with  eminent  prosperity, 
enriched  with  unrestricted  commerce,  loaded  with  reciprocal 
benefits,  and  endowed,  for  every  good,  and  wise,  and  worthy 
purpose,  with  irresistible  influence  over  surrounding  nations. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  xvin. 

CHALMERS   ON   PEACE.* 


There  are  a  great  many  passages  in  Scripture  which 
warrant  the  expectation  that  a  time  is  coming,  when  an  end 
shall  be  put  to  war — when  its  abominations  and  its  cruelties 
shall  be  banished  from  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and  many  and 
delightful  are  the  images  which  the  Bible  employs,  as 
guided  by  the  light  of  prophecy,  it  carries  us  forward  to  those 
millennial  days,  v.  hen  the  reign  of  peace  shall  be  established, 
and  the  wide  charity  of  the  gospel,  which  is  confined  by  no 
liQiits,  and  owns  no  distinctions,  shall  embosom  the  whole 
human  race  within  the  ample  grasp  of  one  harmonious  and 
universal  family. 

Let  me  first  attempt  to  do  away  a  delusion  which  exists 
on  the  subject  of  prophecy.  Its  fulfilments  are  all  certain, 
say  many  ;  and  we  have  therefore  nothing  to  do,  but  to  wait 
for  them  in  passive  and  indolent  expectation.  Let  us 
therefore  sit  down  quietly  in  the  attitude  of  spectators — let 
us  leave  the  Divinity  to  do  his  own  work  in  his  own  way, 
and  mark,  by.  the  progress  of  a  history  over  which  we  have 
no  control,  the  evolution  of  his  designs,  and  the  march  of 
his  wise  and  beneficent  administration. 

Now,  it  is  very  true,  that  the  Divinity  will  do  his  own 
work  in  his  own  way ;  but  if  he  choose  to  tell  us  that  that 
way  is  not  without  the  instrumentality  of  men,  but  by  their 
instrumentality,  might  not  this  sitting  down  into  the  mere 
attitude  of  spectators,  turn  out  to  be  a  most  perverse  and 
disobedient  conclusion  ?  It  is  true,  that  his  purpose  will  ob- 
tain its  fulfilment,  whether  we  shall  offer  or  not  to  help  it  for- 
ward by  our  co-operation ;  but  if  the  object  is  to  be  brought 
about,  and  he  has  also  determined  on  the  way  which  leads 
to  it,  and  that  that  way  shall  be  by  the  putting  forth  of  hu- 
man exertion,  then,  let  us  keep  back  our  co-operation  as  we 
may,  God  will  raise  up  the  hearts  of  others  to  that  which  we 
abstain  from.. 

Now,  this  is  the  very  way  in  which  prophecies  have  ac- 
tually been  fulfilled ;  and  the  same  holds  true  of  the  pro- 
phecy of  universal  peace.     The  abolition  of  war  will  be  the 

*  From  a  Sermon  by  Rev.  Thomas  Chalmers,  D.  D. 
P.  T.      NO.  XVIII. 


2  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  150 

effect,  not  of  any  sudden  or  resistless  visitation  from  heaven 
on  the  character  of  men — not  of  any  mystical  influence 
working  with  all  the  omnipotence  of  a  charm  on  the  passive 
hearts  of  those  who  are  the  subjects  of  it — not  of  any  blind 
or  overruling  fatality  which  will  come  upon  the  earth  at 
some  distant  period  of  its  history,  and  about  which,  we  of 
the  present  day  have  nothing  to  do,  but  to  look  silently  on, 
without  concern,  and  \vithout  co-operation.  The  prophecy 
of  a  peace  as  universal  as  the  spread  of  the  human  race, 
and  as  enduring  as  the  moon  in  the  firmament,  will  meet  its 
accomplishment ;  but  it  will  be  brought  about  by  the  activity 
of  men.  It  will  be  done  by  the  philanthropy  of  thinking 
and  intelligent  Christians.  The  conversion  of  the  Jews — 
the  spread  of  gospel  light  among  the  regions  of  idolatry — 
these  are  distinct  subjects  of  prophecy,  on  which  the 
faithful  of  the  land  are  now  acting,  and  to  the  fulfilment  of 
which  they  are  giving  their  zeal  and  their  energy.  I  con- 
ceive the  prophecy  which  relates  to  the  final  abolition  of 
war,  will  be  taken  up  in  the  same  manner,  and  the  subject 
will  be  brought  to  the  test  of  Christian  principle,  and  many 
will  unite  to  spread  a  growing  sense  of  its  follies  and  its 
enormities  over  the  countries  of  the  world,  and  the  public 
will  be  enlightened  by  the  mild  dissemination  of  gospel  sen- 
timent through  the  land,  and  the  prophecy  contained  in  this 
book,  will  pass  into  effect  and  accomplishment  by  no  other 
influence  than  the  influence  of  its  ordinary  lessons  on  the 
hearts  and  consciences  of  individuals,  and  the  measure  will 
first  be  carried  in  one  country  by  the  control  of  general  opin- 
ion, and  the  sacre'd  fire  of  good-will  to  the  children  of  men 
will  spread  itself  through  all  climes,  and  through  all  lati- 
tudes— and  thus  by  scriptural  truth  conveyed  with  power 
from  one  people  to  another,  and  taking  its  ample  round 
among  all  the  tribes  and  families  of  the  earth,  shall  we  ar- 
rive at  the  magnificent  result  of  peace  throughout  all  its 
provinces,  and  security  in  all  its  dwelling  places. 

The  mere  existence  of  this  prophecy  of  peace,  is  a  sen- 
tence of  condemnation  upon  war,  and  stamps  a  criminality 
on  its  very  forehead.  So  soon  as  Christianity  shall  gain  a 
full  ascendency  in  the  world,  from  that  moment  war  is  to 
disappear.  We  have  heard  that  there  is  something  noble  in 
the  art  of  war  ;  that  there  is  something  generous  in  the  ar- 
dor of  that  fine  chivalric  spirit  which  kindles  in  the  hour  of 
alarm,  and  rushes  with  delight  among  the  thickest  scenes  of 
danger  and  enterprise  ; — that  man  is  never  more  proudly 
arrayed,  than  when,  elevated  by  a  contempt  for  death,  he 


\ 
151  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  ^ 

puts  on  his  intrepid  front,  and  looks  serene,  while  the  ar- 
rows of  destruction  are  flying  on  every  side  of  him ; — that 
expunge  war,  and  you  expunge  some  of  the  brightest  names 
in  the  catalogue  of  human  virtue,  and  demolish  that  theatre 
on  which  have  been  displayed  some  of  the  sublimest  ener- 
gies of  the  human  character.  It  is  thus  that  war  has  been 
invested  with  a  most  pernicious  splendor,  and  men  have 
offered  to  justify  it  as  a  blessing  and  an  ornament  to  society, 
and  attempts  have  been  made  to  throw  a  kind  of  imposing 
morality  around  it ;  and  one  might  almost  be  reconciled  to 
the  whole  train  of  its  calamities  and  its  horrors,  did  he  not 
believe  his  Bible,  and  learn  from  its  information,  that  in  the 
days  of  perfect  righteousness,  there  will  be  no  war  ; — that  so 
soon  as  the  character  of  man  has  had  the  last  finish  of 
Christian  principle  thrown  over  it,  from  that  moment  all  the 
instruments  of  war  will  be  thrown  aside,  and  all  its  lessons 
will  be  forgotten. 

But  apart  altogether  from  this*  testimony  to  the  evil 
of  war,  let  us  just  take  a  direct  look  of  it,  and  see  whether 
we  can  find  its  character  engraved  on  the  aspect  it  bears 
to  the  eye  of  an  attentive  observer.  The  stoutest  heart 
would  recoil,  were  he  who  owns  it,  to  behold  the  de- 
struction of  a  single  individual  by  some  deed  of  violence. 
Were  the  man  who  at  this  moment  stands  before  you  in  the 
full  play  and  energy  of  health,  to  be  in  another  moment  laid 
by  some  deadly  aim  a  lifeless  corpse  at  your  feet,  there  is 
not  one  of  you  who  would  not  prove  how  strong  are  the  re- 
lentings  of  nature  at  a  spectacle  so  hideous  as  death.  There 
are  some  of  you  who  would  be  haunted  for  whole  days  by 
the  image  of  horror  you  had  witnessed — who  would  feel  the 
weight  of  a  most  oppressive  sensation  upon  your  heart, 
which  nothing  but  time  could  wear  away — who  would  be  so 
pursued  by  it  as  to  be  unfit  for  business  or  for  enjoyment — 
who  would  think  of  it  through  the  day,  and  it  would  spread 
a  gloomy  disquietude  over  your  waking  moments — who 
would  dream  of  it  at  night,  and  it  would  turn  that  bed 
which  you  courted  as  a  retreat  from  the  torments  of  an  ever- 
meddling  memory,  into  a  scene  of  restlessness. 

O  !  my  brother,  if  there  be  something  appalling  in  the 
suddenness  of  death,  think  not  that  when  gradual  in  its 
advances,  you  will  alleviate  the  horrors  of  this  sickening 
contemplation,  by  viewing  it  in  a  milder  form.  O !  tell 
me,  if  there  be  any  relentings  of  pity  in  your  bosom,  how 
could  you  endure  it,  to  behold  the  agonies  of  the  dying 
man,  as  goaded  by  pain,  he  grasps  the  cold  ground  in  con- 


4  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  152 

vulsive  energy,  or  faint  with  the  loss  of  blood,  his  pulse 
ebbs  low,  and  the  gathering  paleness  spreads  itself  over  his 
countenance  ;  or  wrapping  himself  round  in  despair,  he  can 
only  mark  by  a  few  feeble  quiverings,  that  life  still  lurks 
and  lingers  in  his  lacerated  body ;  or  lifting  up  a  faded  ey^, 
he  casts  on  you  a  look  of  imploring  helplessness,  for  that 
succor  which  no  sympathy  can  yield  him. — It  may  be  pain- 
ful to  dwell  on  such  a  representation ;  but  this  is  the  way 
in  which  the  cause  of  humanity  is  served.  The  eye  of  the 
J  sentimentalist  turns  away  from  its  sufferings,  and  he  passes 
I  by  on  the  other  side,  lest  he  hear  that  pleading  voice  which 
Vis  armed  with  a  tone  of  remonstrance  so  vigorous  as  to 
disturb  him.  He  cannot  bear  thus  to  pause,  in  imagina- 
tion, on  the  distressing  picture  of  one  individual;  but  multi- 
ply it  ten  thousand  times ;  say,  how  much  of  all  this  dis- 
tress has  been  heaped  together  upon  a  single  field ;  give  us 
the  arithmetic  of  this  accumulated  wretchedness,  and  lay  it 
before  us  with  all  the  accuracy  of  an  official  computation — 
and,  strange  to  tell,  not  one  sigh  is  lifted  up  among  the 
crowd  of  eager  listeners,  as  they  stand  on  tiptoe,  and  catch 
every  syllable  of  utterance  which  is  read  to  them  out  of 
the  registers  of  death.  O !  say,  what  mystic  spell  is  that, 
which  so  blinds  us  to  the  sufferings  of  our  brethren ;  which 
deafens  our  ear  to  the  voice  of  bleeding  humanity,  when  it 
is  aggravated  by  the  shriek  of  dying  thousands;  which 
makes  the  very  magnitude  of  the  slaughter,  throw  a  soften- 
ing disguise  over  its  cruelties,  and  its  horrors ;  which  causes 
us  to  eye  with  indifference,  the  field  that  is  crowded  with 
the  most  revolting  abominations,  and  arrests  that  sigh, 
which  each  individual  would  singly  have  drawn  from  us,  by 
the  report  of  the  many  who  have  fallen,  and  breathed  their 
last  in  agony  along  with  them. 

I  am  not  saying  that  the  burden  of  all  this  criminality 
rests  upon  the  head  of  the  immediate  combatants.  It  lies 
somewhere  ;  but  who  can  deny  that  a  soldier  may  be  a 
Christian,  and  that  from  the  bloody  field  on  which  his  body 
is  laid,  his  soul  may  wing  its  ascending  way  to  the  shores 
of  a  peaceful  eternity  ?  But  when  I  think  that  the  Chris- 
tians, even  of  the  great  world,  form  but  a  very  little  flock, 
and  that  an  army  is  not  a  propitious  soil  for  the  growth  of 
Christian  principle — when  I  think  on  the  character  of  one 
such  army,  that  had  been  led  on  for  years  by  a  ruffian  am- 
bition, and  been  inured  to  scenes  of  barbarity,  and  had 
gathered  a  most  ferocious  hardihood  of  soul  from  the  many 
enterprises  of  violence  to  which  an  unprincipled  conunand- 


i53  CHALMERS    ON    t'fcAC^.  5 

er  had  carried  them — when  I  follow  them  to  the  field  of 
battle,  and  further  think,  that  on  both  ^des  of  an  exaspe- 
rated contest,  the  gentleness  of  Christianity  can  have  no 
place  in  almost  any  bosom,  but  that  nearly  every  heart  is 
lighted  up  with  fury,  and  breathes  a  vindictive  purpose 
against  a  brother  of  the  species,-!  cannot  but  recken  it  among 
the  most  fearful  of  the  calamities  of  war,  that  while  the 
work  of  death  is  thickening  along  its  ranks,  so  many  disem- 
bodied spirits  should  pass  into  the  presence  of  Him  who 
sitteth  upon  the  throne,  in  such  a  posture,  and  with  such  a 
preparation. 

I  have  no  time  to  set  before  you  a  vivid  picture  of  the 
other  miseries  which  war  carries  in  its  train — how  it  deso--^ 
lates  every  country  through  which  it  rolls,  and  spreads  vio- 
lation and  alarm  among  its  villages — how,  at  its  approach, 
every  home  pours  forth  its  trembling  fugitives — how  all  the 
rights  of  property,  and  all  the  provisions  of  justice  must 
give  way  before  its  devouring  exactions — how,  when  Sab- 
bath comes,  no  Sabbath  charm  comes  along  with  it,  and 
for  the  sound  of  the  church  bell  which  wont  to  spread  its 
music  over  some  fine  landscape  of  nature,  and  summon  rus- 
tic worshippers  to  the  house  of  prayer,  nothing  is  heard  but 
the  deathful  volleys  of  the  battle,  and  the  maddening  outcry 
of  infuriated  men — how,  as  the  fruit  of  victory,  an  unprin- 
cipled licentiousness  which  no  discipline  can  restrain,  is 
suffered  to  walk  at  large  among  the  people,  and  all  that  is 
pure,  and  reverend,  and  holy  in  the  virtue  of  families,  is 
cruelly  trampled  on,  and  held  in  the  bitterest  derision. 

But  let  me  hasten  to  some  of  the  obstacles  which  stand 
in  the  way  of  the  extinction  of  war.  The  first  great  ob- 
stacle, then,  is  the  way  in  which  the  heart  of  man  is  carried 
off  from  its  barbarities  and  its  horrors,  by  the  splendor  of 
its  deceitful  accompaniments.  There  is  a  feeling  of  the 
sublime  in  contemplating  the  shock  of  armies,  just  as  there 
is  in  contemplating  the  devouring  energy  of  a  tempest ;  and 
this  so  elevates  and  engrosses  the  whole  man,  that  his  eye 
is  blind  to  the  tears  of  bereaved  parents,  and  his  ear  is  deaf 
to  the  piteous  moan  of  the  dying,  and  the  shriek  of  their 
desolated  families.  There  is  a  gracefulness  in  the  picture 
of  a  youthful  warrior  burning  for  distinction  on  the  field, 
and  lured  by  this  generous  aspiration  to  the  deepest  of  the 
animated  throng,  where,  in  the  fell  work  of  death^  the  op- 
posing sons  of  valor  struggle  for  a  remembrance  and  a 
name  ;  and  this  side  of  the  picture  is  so  much  the  exclu- 
sive object  of  our  regard,  as  to  disguise  from  our  view  the 


6  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  154 

mangled  carcasses  of  the  fallen,  and  the  writhing  agonies  of 
the  hundreds  and  die  hundreds  more  who  have  been  laid 
on  the  cold  ground,  where  they  are  left  to  languish  and  to 
die.  There  no  eye  pities  them.  No  sister  is  there  to  weep 
over  them.  There  no  gentle  hand  is  present  to  ease  the 
dying  posture,  or  bind  up  the  wounds  which,  in  the  mad- 
dening fury  of  the  combat,  have  been  given  and  received  by 
the  children  of  one  common  father.  There  death  spreads 
its  pale  ensigns  over  every  countenance ;  and  when  night 
comes  on,  and  darkness  around  them,  how  many  a  despair- 
ing wretch  must  take  up  with  the  bloody  field  as  the  un- 
tended  bed  of  his  last  sufferings,  without  one  friend  to  bear 
the  message  of  tenderness  to  his  distant  home,  without 
one  companion  to  close  his  eyes. 

I  avow  it.  On  every  side  of  me  I  see  causes  at  work 
which  go  to  spread  a  most  delusive  coloring  over  war,  and 
to  remove  its  shocking  barbarities  to  the  back  ground  of 
our  contemplations  altogether.  I  see  it  in  the  history  which 
tells  me  of  the  superb  appearance  of  the  troops,  and  the 
brilliancy  of  theii"  successive  charges.  I  see  it  in  the  poe- 
try which  lends  the  magic  of  its  numbers  to  the  narrative 
of  blood,  and  transports  its  many  admirers,  as  by  its  images, 
and  its  figures,  and  its  nodding  plumes  of  chivalry,  it  throws 
its  treacherous  embellishments  over  a  scene  of  legalized 
slaughter.  I  see  it  in  the  music  which  represents  the  pro- 
gress of  the  battle ;  and  where,  after  being  inspired  by  the 
trumpet-notes  of  preparation,  the  whole  beauty  and  tender- 
ness of  a  drawing-room  are  seen  to  bend  over  the  sentimen- 
tal entertainment ;  nor  do  I  hear  the  utterance  of  a  single 
sigh  to  interrupt  the  death-tones  of  the  thickening  contest, 
and  the  moans  of  the  wounded  men  as  they  Hide  away  upon 
the  ear,  and  sink  into  lifeless  silence.  All,  all  goes  to  prove 
what  strange  and  half-sighted  creatures  we  are.  Were  it 
not  so,  war  could  never  have  been  seen  in  any  other  aspect 
than  that  of  unmingled  hatefulness ;  and  I  can  look  to 
nothing  but  to  the  progress  of  Christian  sentiment  upon 
earth  to  arrest  the  strong  current  of  its  popular  and  pre- 
Yailing  partiality  for  war.  Then  only  will  an  imperious 
sense  of  duty  lay  the  check  of  severe  principle  on  all  the 
subordinate  tastes  and  faculties  of  our  nature.  Then  will 
glory  be  reduced  to  its  right  estimate,  and  the  wakeful  be- 
nevolence of  the  gospel  chasing  away  every  spell,  will  be 
turned  by  the  treachery  of  no  delusion  whatever  from  its 
simple  but  sublime  enterprises  for  the  good  of  the  species. 
Then  the  reign  of  truth  and  quietness  will  be  ushered  into 


155  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  7" 

the  world,  and  war,  cruel,   atrocious,  unrelenting  wai;  will 
be  stript  of  its  many  and  its  bewildering  fascinations. 

But  another  obstacle  to  the  extinction  of  war,  is  a  senti- 
ment which  seems   to   be   universally  gone   into,  that  the 
rules   and  promises  of  the  gospel  which   apply  to  a  single 
individual,  do  not  apply  to  a  nation  of  individuals.     Just 
think  of  the  mighty  effect  it  would  have  on  the  politics  of 
the  world,  were  this   sentiment  to  be  practically  deposed 
from  its  wonted  authority  over  the  counsels  and  the  doings 
of  nations,  in  their  transactions  with  each  other.     If  for-^ 
bearance  be  the  virtue  of  an  individual,  forbearance  is  also  ■  ' 
the  virtue  of  a  nation.    If  it  be  incumbent  on  men  in  honor 
to  prefer  each  other,  it  is  incumbent  on  the  very  largest  so- 
cieties of  men,  through  the  constituted  organ  of  their  gov- 
ernment, to  do  the  same.     If  it  be  the  glory  of  a  man  to  de- 
fer his  anger,  and  to  pass  over  a  transgression,  that  nation 
mistakes  its  glory  which  is  so  feelingly  alive  to  the  slightest 
insult,  and  musters  up  its  threats  and  its  armaments  upon 
the  faintest   shadow  of  a  provocation.     If  it  be  the  magna-\ 
nimity  of  an  injured  man  to  abstain  from  vengeance,  and  itN 
by  so  doing,   he   heaps   coals  of  fire  upon  the  head   of  his  n 
enemy,  then  that  is  the  magnanimous  nation,  which,  recoil- 1! 
ing  from  violence   and   from  blood,  will  do  no  more  than  / 
send  its  Christian  embassy,  and  prefer  its  mild  and  impres-  j 
sive  remonstrance ;  and  that  is  the  disgraced  nation  which  | 
will  refuse  the  impressiveness  of  the  moral  appeal  that  has 
been  made  to  it. 

It  is,  then,  only  by  the  extension  of  Christian  principle 
among  the  people  of  the  earth,  that  the  atrocities  of  war 
will  at  length  be  swept  away  from  it ;  and  each  of  us 
in  hastening  the  commencement  of  that  blissful  period  in 
his  own  sphere,  is  doing  all  that  in  him  lies  to  bring  his 
own  heart,  and  the  hearts  of  others,  under  the  supreme  in- 
fluence of  this  principle.  It  is  public  opinion,  which  in  the 
long  run  governs  the  world ;  and  while  I  look  with  confi- 
dence to  a  gradual  revolution  in  ihe  state  of  public  opinion 
from  the  omnipotence  of  gospel  truth  working  its  silent  but 
effectual  way  through  the  families  of  mankind,  yet  I  will 
not  deny  that  much  may  be  done  to  accelerate  the  advent  of 
perpetual  and  universal  peace,  by  a  distinct  body  of  men 
embarking  their  every  talent,  and  their  every  acquirement 
in  the  prosecution  of  this  as  a  distinct  object.  This  was 
the  way  in  which,  a  few  years  ago,  the  British  public  were 
gained  over  to  the  cause  of  Africa.  This  is  the  way  in 
which  some  of  the  other  prophecies  of  the  Bible  are  at  this 


8  CHALMERS    ON    PEACE.  156 

moment  hastening  to  their  accomplishment ;  and  it  is  this 
way,  I  apprehend,  that  the  prophecy  of  peace  may  be  in- 
debted for  its  speedier  fulfilment  to  the  agency  of  men  se- 
lecting this  as  the  assigned  field  on  which  their  philanthropy 
shall  expatiate.  Were  each  individual  member  of  such  a 
scheme  to  prosecute  his  own  walk,  and  come  forward  with 
his  own  peculiar  contribution,  the  fruit  of  the  united  labors 
of  all  would  be  one  of  the  finest  collections  of  Christian 
eloquence,  and  of  enlightened  morals,  and  of  sound  politi- 
^  cal  philosophy,  that  ever^was  presented  to  the  world.  I 
could  not  fasten  on  another  cause  more  fitted  to  call  forth 
such  a  variety  of  talent,  and  to  rally  around  it  so  many  of 
the  generous  and  accomplished  sons  of  humanity,  and  to 
give  each  of  them  a  devotedness  and  a  power  far  beyond 
whatever  could  be  sent  into  the  hearts  of  enthusiasts  by 
the  mere  impulse  of  literary  ambition. 

Let  one  take  up  the  question  of  war  in  its  principle,  and 
make  the  full  weight  of  his  moral  severity  rest  upon  it,  and 
upon  all  its  abominations.  Let  another  take  up  the  ques- 
tion of  war  in  its  consequences,  and  bring  his  every  pow- 
er of  graphical  description  to  the  task  of  presenting  an 
awakened  public  with  an  impressive  detail  of  its  cruelties 
and  its  horrors.  Let  another  neutralize  the  poetry  of  war, 
and  dismantle  it  of  all  those  bewitching  splendors,  which 
the  hand  of  misguided  genius  has  thrown  over  it.  Let 
another  teach  the  world  a  truer,  and  more  magnanimous 
path  to  national  glory,  than  any  country  of  the  world  has 
yet  walked  in.  Let  another  tell  with  irresistible  argument, 
how  the  Christian  ethics  of  a  nation  is  at  one  with  the 
Christian  ethics  of  its  humblest  individual.  Let  another 
pour  the  light  of  modern  speculation  into  the  mysteries  of 
trade,  and  prove  that  not  a  single  war  has  been  undertaken 
for  any  of  its  objects,  where  the  millions  and  the  millions 
more  which  were  lavished  on  the  cause,  have  not  all  been 
cheated  away  from  us  by  the  phantom  of  an  imaginary  in- 
terest. This  may  look  t(i  many  like  the  Utopianism  of  a 
romantic  anticipation ;  but  I  shall  never  despair  of  the 
cause  of  truth  addressed  to  a  Christian  public,  when  the 
clear  light  of  principle  can  be  brought  to  every  one  of  its 
positions,  and  when  its  practical  and  conclusive  establish- 
ment forms  one  of  the  most  distinct  of  Heaven's  prophe- 
cies— **  that  men  shall  beat  their  swords  into  plough- 
shares, and  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks ;  and  that 
nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither 
shall  they  learn  war  any  more." 


^^  .  No.  XIX. 

THE   CHIEF  EVIL  OF  WAR. 


BY    W.    E.    CHANNING,    D.  D. 

Let  us,  then,  consider  the  chief  evil  of  war.  What  is 
it?  What  induces  us  to  place  war  at  the  head  of  human 
calamities?  In  replying  to  these  questions,  I  shall  not 
direct  you  to  the  physical  sufferings  of  war,  however  terrible. 
Death  in  its  worst  forms ;  the  overthrow  of  proud  cities ;  the 
devastation  of  fruitful  fields ;  the  empoverishing  of  nations ; 
famine ;  pestilence  ;  these  form  the  train  of  victorious  war. 
But  these  are  not  the  distinguishing  evils  of  war.  Other 
causes  are  wasting  human  life  and  joy.  Cities  are  over- 
thrown by  earthquakes  as  well  as  by  armies,  and  more  fre- 
quently swept  by  accidental  conflagrations  than  by  the 
flames  of  war.  Hostile  bands  ravage  the  fields  ;  but  how 
much  oftener  do  whirlwinds,  storms,  hurricanes  rush  over 
land  and  sea,  prostrating  harvests,  and  destroying  the  labors 
of  years  on  a  scale  so  vast  as  to  reduce  human  devastations 
to  a  narrow  extent.  The  truth  is,  that  man  is  surrounded 
with  mighty  powers  of  nature  vi^hich  he  cannot  comprehend 
or  withstand;  and,  amidst  their  beneficent  operations,  all 
of  them  inflict  much  suffering.  What  distinguishes  war  is, 
not  that  man  is  slain,  but  that  he  is  slain,  spoiled,  crushed 
by  the  cruelty,  the  injustice,  the  treachery,  the  murderous 
hand  of  man.  The  evil  is  moral  evil.  War  is  the  concen- 
tration of  all  human  crimes.  Here  is  its  distinguishing, 
accursed  brand.  Under  its  standard  gather  violence,  ma- 
lignity, rage,  fraud,  perfidy,  rapacity  and  lust.  If  it  only 
slew  man,  it  would  do  little.  It  turns  man  into  a  beast  of 
prey.  Here  is  the  evil  of  war,  that  man,  made  to  be  the 
brother,  becomes  the  deadly  foe  of  his  kind  ;  that  man, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  mitigate  suffering,  makes  the  infliction 
of  suffering  his  study  and  end  ;  that  man,  whose  office  it  is  to 
avert  and  heal  the  wounds  which  come  from  nature's  powers, 
makes  researches  into  nature's  laws,  and  arms  himself  with 
her  most  awful  forces,  that  he  may  become  the  destroyer 
of  his  race.  Nor  is  this  all.  There  is  also  found  in  war  a 
cold-hearted  indifference  to  human  miseries  and  wrongs, 
perhaps  more  shocking  than  the  bad  passions  it  calls  forth. 
To  my  mind,  this  contempt  of  human  nature  is  singularly 
offensive.    To  hate,  expresses  something  like  respect.     But 

p.  T.       NO.  XIX. 


2  THE    CHIEF    EVIL    OF    WAR.  158 

in  war,  man  treats  his  brother  as  nothing  worth ;  sweeps 
away  human  multitudes  as  insects ;  tramples  them  down  as 
grass ;  mocks  at  their  rights ;  and  does  not  deign  a  thought 
to  their  woes. 

These  remarks  show  us  the  great  evil  of  war.  It  is  moral 
evil.  The  field  of  battle  is  h  theatre,  got  up  at  immense 
cost,  for  the  exhibition  of  crime  on  a  grand  scale.  There 
the  hell  within  the  human  breast  blazes  out  fiercely  and 
without  disguise.  A  more  fearful  hell  in  any  region  of  the 
universe  cannot  well  be  conceived.  There  the  fiends  hold 
their  revels,  and  spread  their  fury. 

Suppose  two  multitudes  of  men,  each  composed  of  thou- 
sands, meeting  from  different  countries,  but  meeting  not  to 
destroy  but  to  consult  and  labor  for  the  good  of  the  race ; 
and  suppose  them,  in  the  midst  of  their  deliberations,  to  be 
smitten  suddenly  by  some  mysterious  visitation  of  God,  and 
their  labors  to  be  terminated  by  immediate  death.  We 
should  be  awe-struck  by  this  strange,  sudden,  wide-spread 
ruin.  But  reflection  would  teach  us,  that  this  simultaneous 
extinction  of  life  in  so  many  of  our  race,  was  but  an  antici- 
pation or  peculiar  fulfilment  of  the  sentence  passed  on  all 
mankind  ;  and  a  tender  reverence  would  spring  up,  as  we 
should  think  of  so  many  generous  men  coming  together 
from  so  many  diflTerent  regions,  in  the  spirit  of  human 
brotherhood,  to  be  wrapt  in  one  pall,  to  sleep  in  one  grave. 
We  should  erect  a  monument  on  the  solemn  spot ;  but 
chiefly  to  commemorate  the  holy  purpose  which  had 
gathered  them  from  their  scattered  abodes;  and  we 
should  write  on  it,  "  To  the  memory  of  a  glorious  com- 
pany, suddenly  taken  from  God's  ministry  on  earth,  to 
enter  again,  a  blessed  brotherhood,  on  a  higher  ministry 
in  heaven."  Here  you  have  death  sweeping  away  hosts 
in  a  moment;  but  how  different  from  death  in  a  field 
of  battle,  where  man  meets  man  as  a  foe,  where  the  coun- 
tenance flashes  rage,  and  the  arm  is  nerved  for  slaughter, 
where  brother  hews  down  brother,  and  where  thousands  are 
sent  unprepared,  in  the  moment  of  crime,  to  give  their  ac- 
count. When  nature's  laws,  fulfilling  the  mysterious  will 
of  God,  inflict  death  on  the  good,  we  bow,  we  adore,  we 
give  thanks.  How  different  is  death  from  the  murderous 
hand  of  man  ^ 

Allow  me  to  make  another  supposition,  which  may  bring 
out  still  more  strongly  the  truth  on  which  I  now  insist,  that 
the  great  evil  of  war  is  inward,  morale  that  its  physical 
woes,  terrible  as  they  may  be,  are  light  by  the  side  of  this. 


J  59  THE    CHIEF    EVIL    OF    WAR.  3 

Suppose  then,  that  in  travelling  through  a  solitary  region, 
you  should  catch  the  glimpse  of  a  distant  dwelling.  You 
approach  it  eagerly  in  the  hope  of  hearing  a  welcome  after 
your  weary  journey.  As  you  draw  nigh,  an  ominous  still- 
ness damps  your  hope ;  and  on  entering,  you  see  the  in- 
mates of  the  house,  a  numerous  family,  stretched  out  mo- 
tionless, and  without  life.  A  wasting  pestilence  has,  in 
one  day,  made  their  dwelling  a  common  tomb.  At  first 
you  are  thrilled  with  horror  by  the  sight ;  but  as  you  survey 
the  silent  forms,  you  see  on  all  their  countenances,  amidst 
traces  of  suffering,  an  expression  of  benignity.  You  see 
some  of  the  dead  lying  side  by  side,  with  hands  mutually 
entwined,  showing  that  the  last  action  of  life  was  a  grasp 
of  affection ;  whilst  some  lie  locked  in  one  another's  arms. 
The  mother's  cold  lips  are  still  pressed  to  the  cheek  of  the 
child,  and  the  child's  arms  still  wind  round  the  neck  of  the 
mother.  In  the  forms  of  others  you  see  no  ambiguous 
proof,  that  the  spirit  took  its  flight  in  the  act  of  prayer. 
As  you  look  on  these  signs  of  love  and  faith,  stronger  than 
the  last  agony,  what  a  new  feeling  steals  over  you  !  Your 
horror  subsides.  Your  eyes  are  sufiused  with  tears,  not 
of  anguish,  but  of  sympathy,  affection,  tender  reverence. 
You  feel  the  spot  to  be  consecrated.  Death  becomes  lovely 
like  the  sleep  of  infancy.  You  say,  Blessed  family,  death 
hath  not  divided  you  ! 

With  soothed  and  respectful  sorrow,  you  leave  this  resting 
place  of  the  good,  and  another  dwelling,  dimly  described  in 
the  horizon,  invites  your  steps.  As  you  approach  it,  the 
same  stillness  is  an  augury  of  a  like  desolation,  and  you 
enter  it,  expecting  to  see  another  family  laid  low  by  the 
same  mysterious  disease.  But  you  open  the  door,  and  the 
spectacle  freezes  your  blood,  and  chains  your  steps  to  the 
threshold.  On  every  face  you  see  the  distortion  of  rage. 
Every  man's  hand  grasps  a  deadly  weapon ;  every  breast  is 
gored  with  wounds.  Here  lies  one,  rived  asunder  by  a 
sword.  There,  two  are  locked  together,  but  in  the  death- 
grapple  of  hatred,  not  the  embrace  of  love.  Here  lies 
woman  trampled  on  and  polluted,  and  there  the  child,  wel- 
tering in  his  own  blood.  You  recoil  with  horror,  as  soon 
as  the  sickness  of  the  heart  will  suffer  you  to  move.  The 
deadly  steam  of  the  apartment  oppresses,  overpowers  you, 
as  if  it  were  the  suffocating  air  of  hell.  You  are  terror- 
struck,  as  if  through  the  opening  earth  you  had  sunk  into 
the  abode  of  fiends ;  and  when  the  time  for  reflection  comes, 
and  you  recall  the  blessed  habitation  you  had  just  before  left, 


4  THE    CHIEF    EVIL    OF    WAR.  160 

what  a  conviction  rushes  on  you,  that  nothing  deserves  the 
name  of  wo,  but  that  which  crime  inflicts.  You  feel,  that 
there  is  a  sweetness,  loveliness,  sacredness  in  suffering  and 
death,  when  pervaded  by  holy  affections ;  and  that  infinite 
wretchedness  and  despair  gather  over  these,  when  springing 
from  unholy  passion,  when  bearing  the  brand  of  crime. 

I  do  not  mean  to  deny,  that  the  physical  sufferings  of  war 
are  great,  and  should  incite  us  to  labor  for  its  abolition. 
But  sufferings,  separate  from  crime,  coming  not  through 
man's  wickedness,  but  from  the  laws  of  nature,  are  not  un- 
mixed evils.  They  have  a  ministry  of  love.  God  has  or- 
dained them,  that  they  should  bind  men  to  one  another,  that 
they  should  touch  and  soften  the  human  heart,  that  they 
should  call  forth  mutual  aid,  solace,  gratitude,  and  self-for- 
getting love.  Sorrow  is  the  chief  cement  of  souls.  Death, 
coming  in  the  order  of  nature,  gathers  round  the  sufferer 
sympathising,  anxious  friends,  who  watch  day  and  night, 
with  sutfused  eyes  and  heart-breathed  prayer,  to  avert  or 
mitigate  the  last  agonies.  It  calls  up  tender  recollections, 
inspires  solemn  thought,  rebukes  human  pride,  obscures  the 
world's  glories,  and  speaks  of  immortality.  From  the  still 
death-bed,  what  softening,  subduing,  chastening,  exalting 
influences  proceed.  But  death  in  war,  death  from  the  hand 
of  man,  sears  the  heart  and  conscience,  kills  human  sym- 
pathies, and  scatters  the  thought  of  judgment  to  come. 
Man  dying  in  battle,  unsolaced,  unpitied,  and  a  victim  to 
hatred,  rapacity,  and  insatiable  ambition,  leaves  behind  him 
wrongs  to  be  revenged.  His  blood  does  not  speak  peace 
or  speak  of  heaven ;  but  sends  forth  a  maddening  cry,  and 
exasperates  survivors  to  new  struggles. 

Thus  war  adds  to  suffering  the  unutterable  weight  of 
crime,  and  defeats  the  holy  and  blessed  ministry  which  all 
suffering  is  intended  to  fulfil.  When  I  look  back  on  the 
ages  of  conflict  through  which  the  race  has  passed,  what 
most  moves  me  is  not  the  awful  amount  of  suffering  which 
war  has  inflicted.  This  may  be  borne.  The  terrible 
thought  is,  that  this  has  been  the  work  of  crime;  that  men, 
whose  great  law  is  love,  have  been  one  another's  butchers ; 
that  God's  children  have  stained  his  beautiful  earth,  made 
beautiful  for  their  home,  with  one  another's  blood ;  that  the 
shriek,  which  comes  to  us  from  all  regions  and  ages,  has 
been  extorted  by  human  cruelty ;  that  man  has  been  a 
demon,  and  has  turned  earth  into  hell. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


-■        LOSS   or    LIFE   BY   WAR. 


No.  XX. 


Life  is  man's  chief  earthly  boon.  It  is  essential  to  all 
his  other  blessings ;  and  without  it  he  can  neither  do,  nor 
enjoy,  nor  be  any  thing.  It  is  the  means  of  all  his  acqui- 
sitions ;  it  is  the  medium  of  all  his  enjoyments ;  it  is  the 
pivot  of  his  destiny  for  two  worlds,  the  seed-time  of  his 
whole  immortal  being,  the  period  of  his  preparation  for  a 
blissful  or  a  miserable  immortality  ! 

Such  is  life,  the  destruction  of  which  is  the  grand  aim 
of  war.  For  what  else  are  its  engines  constructed,  its  science 
and  its  skill  taught,  its  arts  and  stratagems  practised,  all 
its  daring  and  desperate  deeds  undertaken  ?  For  what  pur- 
pose its  swords  and  bayonets,  its  muskets  and  cannon,  its 
bombs  and  rockets,  and  other  instruments  of  death  ?  Are 
they  not  made  and  used  almost  solely  for  the  butchery  of  man- 
kind ?  Is  it  not  for  this  as  her  grand  object,  that  Christendom 
still  maintains  her  two  thousand  war-ships,  still  keeps  her 
millions  of  human  blood-hounds  ready  for  their  prey,  and 
loads  her  toiling,  struggling,  starving  myriads  with  debts  and 
taxes  ?  Have  not  the  chief  energies  of  our  race  for  nearly 
six  thousand  yeqrs,  been  absorbed,  all  over  the  earth,  in  the 
work  of  mutual  butchery  1 

Surely,  then,  the  result  must  be  a  fearful  sacrifice  of  life. 
The  sum  total  we  cannot  ascertain ;  but  let  us  consider 
first  how  war  obstructs  the  increase  of  mankind,  and  next 
how  it  actually  destroys  them ;  its  work  of  prevention,  and 
its  work  of  destruction,  both  of  which  conspire  to  swell 
the  incalculable  amount  of  its  havoc. 

We  cannot  dwell  on  the  thousand  ways  in  which  war 
prevents  the  legitimate  and  salutary  growth  of  our  species. 
The  general  poverty  which  it  creates,  must  tend  to  hold 
back  the  mass  of  the  community  from  marriage.  Virtue  is 
the  chief  nurse  of  population  ;  but  this  custom  is  a  hot-bed 
of  vice  and  crime.  It  reeks  with  licentiousness ;  and 
every  one  knows  that  such  habits  in  a  community  are  fatal 
to  the  increase  of  its  numbers,  iand  often  suffice  alone  to 
insure,  as  in  the  South-Sea  Islands,  a  steady  and  rapid 
diminution.  Its  laws,  its  stern  exigencies,  forbid  in  most 
cases  the  marriage  of  its  agents ;  and  the  great  body  of 

p.  T.       NO.   XX. 


2  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  162 

them  become  reckless  libertines,  whose  intrigues  debauch 
more  or  less  every  community  they  visit.  There  is  no 
record  of  their  countless  victims ;  but  the  general  result  in 
war-countries  is  seen  in  the  fact,  that  in  Paris,  as  in  many 
other  parts  of  Europe,  every  third  child  is  a  bastard.  Nor 
does  even  this  tell  the  whole  truth  ;  for  means  are  almost 
universally  employed  by  such  persons  there,  with  the  cer- 
tainty of  success  in  most  cases,  to  prevent  conception,  or 
procure  abortion.  In  some  European  countries,  no  man  is 
permitted  to  marry  until  he  has  served  in  the  army  a  long 
term  of  years  ;  and  during  this  time,  the  common  soldiers 
indulge  in  the  loosest  debaucheries,  and  the  officers  live  on 
a  species  of  tolerated  concubinage  which  creates  w^hole 
families  of  illegitimate  children.  At  the  close  of  their  ser- 
vice, some  marry,  others  do  not ;  and  the  result  is  such  a 
general  relaxation  of  morals  and  domestic  ties  as  must 
greatly  diminish  the  number  of  lawful  marriages,  and  the 
growth  of  a  legitimate  and  virtuous  population.  Camps 
and  fleets  are  even  in  peace  most  prolific  nurseries  of  licen- 
tiousness ;  every  war-ship,  when  in  port,  is  a  floating 
brothel,  insomuch  that  six  hundred  prostitutes  are  said  to 
have  perished  in  the  sinking  of  the  Royal  George  at  Spit- 
head,  in  1782;  and  every  recruiting  rendezvous,  every 
resting-place  of  soldiers  for  a  single  night,  is  a  centre  or 
source  of  pollution ;  nor  can  you  well  conceive  the  full  in- 
fluence in  these  respects  of  three  millions  of  men,  in  the 
vigor  of  health,  and  the  fire  of  youthful  passion,  Avithdrawn 
from  marriage,  and  left  to  sate  their  fierce  and  lawless  lusts 
on  female  purity. 

The  general  result  you  may  see  in  war-countries  com- 
pared with  those  which  have  pursued  a  pacific  policy. 
Such  has  been  our  own  policy ;  and  in  fifty  years  we 
have  quadrupled  our  population.  Such  has  been  the  pol- 
icy of  China ;  and,  with  a  territory  equal  to  little  more 
than  one  third  of  Europe,  she  has  nearly  half  the  people 
on  the  globe.  While  our  own  population  was  doubling 
every  quarter  of  a  century,  that  of  Europe,  according  to 
Adam  Smith,  was  increasing  at  a  rate  so  slow  as  hardly  to 
reach  the  same  result  in  five  hundred  years ;  but  since  the 
downfall  of  Napoleon,  the  inhabitants  of  Prussia  have  been 
doubling  in  twenty-six  years,  those  of  Great  Britain  in  forty- 
two,  those  of  Russia  in  sixty-six,  and  those  of  France  in  one 
hundred  and  five.  During  these  thirty  years  of  general 
peace,  (1S45,)  the  population  of  Europe,  with  the  exception 
of  Spain  and  Portugal  rent  with  civil  wars,  has  probably 


103  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  8 

increased  more  than  in  any  two  centuries  before  for  a  thou- 
sand years.  The  sum  total  of  prevention  from  war,  we 
cannot  of  course  estimate  or  even  conjecture ;  but,  had  this 
custom  never  existed,  their  might  hitherto  have  been  full 
twice  as  many  human  beings  on  the  globe,  with  four  times 
the  amount  of  happiness.  Nor  can  this  supposition  be  neu- 
tralized by  saying,  that  the  earth  would  thus  have  been 
overstocked  ;  for  experiment  and  calculation  have  proved  it 
capable  of  supporting  in  comfort  more  than  fifty  times  its 
present  population ! 

But  look  especially  at  the  direct  havoc  of  mankind  hy 
war.  It  introduces  a  variety  of  customs  destructive  to  life. 
We  are  not,  as  friends  of  peace,  concerned  with  the  question 
of  capital  punishment ;  but,  if  war  did  not  first  lead  to  such 
penalties,  it  certainly  has  increased  their  number  to  a  fear- 
ful extent,  and  written  the  code  of  even  some  Christian 
States  in  blood.  In  England  itself  there  were,  in  the  time 
of  Blackstone,  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  sixty  crimes 
punishable  with  death;  and  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII., 
there  perished  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner  72,000  per- 
sons, or  an  average  of  one  every  hour  of  day-light  for  a 
space  of  seventeen  years !  War,  likewise,  originated  duelling, 
judicial  combats,  and  other  practices  which  have  swept  off 
immense  multitudes.  We  little  suspect  how  many  have 
fallen  in  duels  alone,  and  can  hardly  believe  what  a  French 
writer  not  long  since  stated,  in  a  paper  read  before  the 
French  Academy,  and  published  under  their  sanction,  that 
in  certain  departments  of  France,  five,  six,  and  even  ten 
per  cent,  of  all  the  deaths  in  the  army  are  occasioned  by 
this  spawn  of  the  war-system ! 

But  the  immediate  destruction  of  life  by  war,  is  vast  and 
appalling.  So  it  must  be,  since  death  is  its  grand  aim; 
and  if  you  contemplate  the  thousands  and  millions  of  its 
agents,  bold,  blood-thirsty  and  reckless,  trained  with  all 
possible  skill  to  the  trade  of  human  butchery,  armed  for 
this  purpose  with  instruments  the  most  terribly  effective, 
plying  every  art,  and  stretching  every  nerve  to  destroy  man- 
kind, and  stimulated  to  desperation  by  the  promise  to  suc- 
cess of  the  highest  earthly  rewards,  can  you  adequately 
conceive  the  havoc  likely  to  ensue  1 

Far  greater,  however,  is  the  incidental  loss  of  life.  Well 
does  Dr.  Johnson  say,  **  War  has  means  of  destruction  more 
formidable  than  the  cannon  and  the  sword.  Of  the  thou- 
sands and  ten  thousands  that  perish,  a  very  small  part  ever 
fbel  the  stroke  of  the  enemy.     The  rest  languish  in  tents 


4  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  164 

and  ships,  amid  damps  and  putrefaction,  pale^  torpid  and 
spiritless ;  gasping  and  groaning  unpitied  among  men  ren- 
dered obstinate  by  long  continuance  of  hopeless  misery; 
and  are  at  last  whelmed  in  pits,  or  heaved  into  the  ocean, 
without  notice  or  remembrance.  By  incommodious  en- 
campments and  unwholesome  stations,  whole  fleets  are 
silently  dispeopled,  and  armies  sluggishly  melted  away." 

If  you  doubt  the  truth  of  these  sweeping  remarks,  go  to 
a  camp,  and  there  see  human  life  rotting  in  masses  into  the 
grave.  The  filth,  intemperance  and  licentiousness  of  sol- 
diers carry  them  off  in  vast  multitudes,  and  generate  dis- 
eases the  most  malignant  and  fatal.  When  seized  with 
sickness,  there  is  little  or  no  care  taken  of  them;  no 
mother,  wife  or  sister  near  to  tend  their  couch  ;  no  pillow 
of  down  to  ease  their  aching  head ;  no  escape  from  pinch- 
ing cold,  or  scorching  heat ;  no  shelter  from  howling  blasts, 
or  drenching  rains.  Hence  death  treads  sure  and  quick 
upon  the  heels  of  disease  that  might,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  have  been  cured  at  home,  or  entirely  prevented.  You 
can  hardly  conceive  how  fast  an  army  will  melt  away  under 
the  influence  of  such  causes  alone,  and  no  record  kept,  no 
notice  taken  of  its  victims.  In  transferring  troops  from 
one  country  to  another,  especially  to  sultry  regions,  states- 
men coolly  calculate  on  losing,  from  this  cause  alone,  every 
third  man.  In  certain  climates,  and  under  certain  circum- 
stances in  every  climate,  it  requires  only  a  few  brief  years 
or  even  months  to  annihilate  whole  crews  or  regiments 
without  shedding  a  drop  of  blood. 

It  is  often  impossible  to  calculate  or  trace  even  the  known 
loss  of  life.  *'  I  was  sixteen  years  old,"  said  a  venerable 
Christian  with  the  frost  of  eighty  winters  on  his  head, 
*'  when  our  Revolutionary  war  began  ;  and,  on  my  brother's 
fitting  out  a  privateer,  I  embarked  along  with  him.  There 
were  ninety  on  board  besides  officers.  In  a  fortnight  we 
were  captured,  and  carried  to  a  prison  in  Lisbon,  whence 
we  were  forced  on  board  a  British  man  of  war,  and  sailed 
for  the  Indies.  There  I  spent  seven  or  eight  years,  and 
did  not  reach  this  country  till  after  the  treaty  of  1783. 
What  became  of  my  companions,  I  know  not ;  but  of 
the  whole  crew,  not  more  than  four  or  five  were  ever  heard 
of  again,  and  those  were  all,  or  nearly  all,  officers.  The 
common  sailors,  I  believe,  all  perished." 

Let  us  quote  a  single  instance  of  the  fatal  effect  of  cli- 
mate.     **  The    climate,"    says   Lord   Collingwood,   **  was 


165  *  LOSS    OF    LI'FE    BY    WAR.  5 

deadly,  and  no  constitution  could  resist  its  effects.  At 
San  Juan,"  near  the  Isthmus  of  Darien,  *'I  joined  the 
ship,  and  succeeded  Lord  Nelson  who  was  promoted  to  a 
larger  ship ;  but  he  had  received  the  infection  of  the  cli- 
mate before  he  went  from  the  port,  and  had  a  fever  from 
which  he  did  not  recover  until  he  quitted  his  ship,  and 
went  to  England.  My  constitution  resisted  many  attacks, 
and  I  survived  most  of  my  ship's  company,  having  buried 
in  four  months  one  hundred  and  eighty  of  the  two  hundred 
that  composed  it ;"  a  loss  of  ninety  per  cent,  from  the  cli- 
mate  alone!  "  Nor  was  mine  a  singular  case;  for  every 
ship  that  was  long  there,  suffered  in  the  same  degree.  The 
transport's  men  all  died ;  and  some  of  the  ships,  having 
none  left  to  take  care  of  them,  sunk  in  the  harbor.  Trans- 
port ships,  however,  were  not  wanted  ;  for  the  troops  they 
had  brought,  were  no  more ;  they  had  fallen  not  by  the 
hand  of  an  enemy,  but  from  the  contagion  of  the  climate." 

The  common  usage,  discipline  and  hardships  of  soldiers 
prey  upon  them  like  murrain.  It  would  seem  impossible 
for  them  to  survive  some  of  their  punishments  that  are  not 
designed  to  take  life ;  and  multitudes  die  either  by  the  pro- 
cess, or  from  its  immediate  effects.  The  ill-treatment  they 
receive,  frequently  drives  them  to  suicide ;  and  their  scanty 
clothing,  their  unwholesome  food,  their  unhealthy  encamp- 
ments, their  want  of  shelter  and  bedding,  their  repose  on 
the  damp,  cold,  frozen  earth,  their  exposures  on  duty  day 
and  night  in  all  seasons,  all  weathers,  and  every  clime, 
cannot  fail  to  hurry  countless  multitudes  to  the  grave. 
Scarce  a  peasant  in  Ireland,  or  a  serf  in  Poland,  or  a  slave 
in  any  country  on  the  globe,  is  subjected  continually  to 
such  fatal  privations,  hardships  and  exposures  as  fall  to  the 
common  lot  of  soldiers. 

Glance  at  their  food,  often  provided  by  avaricious,  un- 
principled contractors  with  less  care  than  a  farmer  ordi- 
narily takes  in  feeding  his  swine  !  It  has  been  sometimes 
so  intolerably  bad  as  to  be  refused  even  by  wretches  dying 
with  hunger  ;  and  an  eminent  physician  once  testified  under 
oath  before  the  British  Parliament,  that  in  the  military  hos- 
pitals of  Aracan,  '*  monstrous  reptiles,  engendered  in  the 
mass  o{  filth,  which  the  soldiers  had  been  obliged  to  take 
for  food,  were  often  seen  crawling  from  the  mouths  of  the 
sick  ! " 

Let  us  select  a  specimen  or  two  of  the  treatment  of  pris- 
oners.     "  Our   numbers,"    says   one   of   the   sufferers,   a 


6  -  LOSS    OF    LIPE    BY    WAR.  '  166 

Frenchman  in  Spain,  **  thinned  rapidly  on  the  way.  Fa- 
tigue and  insufficient  provision  rendered  many  incapable 
of  rising  to  renew  their  march  after  a  night's  halt ;  and  the 
dawn  exhibited  to  us  the  stiffened  limbs  of  such  as  death 
had  released  from  further  earthly  trouble.  The  survivors 
were  gaunt  and  emaciated  ;  and  frequently  would  a  poor 
fellow  drop  to  the.  ground  in  the  extremity  of  wearieess 
and  despair.  No  effort  was  made  to  assist  these  sufferers ; 
but  they  were  either  left  behind  to  perish,  or  bayonetted  on 
the  spot."  The  French,  in  their  retreat  from  Moscow, 
had  in  one  instance  three  thousand  Russian  prisoners. 
**  During  the  march,"  says  Labaume,  "  having  no  provi- 
sions to  give  them,  they  were  herded  together  like  beasts, 
and  not  allowed  on  any  pretext  to  quit  the  limits  assigned 
them.  Without  fire,  perishing  with  cold,  they  lay  on  the 
bare  ice;  to  appease  their  ravenous  hunger,  they  seized 
with  avidity  the  horse-flesh  which  was  distributed  to  them, 
and,  for  want  of  time  and  means  to  dress  it,  ate  it  en- 
tirely raw ;  and  I  have  been  assured  that,  when  this  supply 
failed,  many  of  them  ate  their  comrades  who  had  sunk 
under  their  miseries  !  " 

Take  an  example  of  hardships  not  uncommon  in  war. 
"  Every  day,"  says  a  young  Scotch  soldier  in  the  Peninsu- 
lar War,  **  we  were  either  on  guard,  or  on  fatigue.  We 
were  not. a  night  in  bed  out  of  two  during  all  the  time  we 
remained  there.  Besides,  the  weather  was  dreadful ;  we 
had  always  either  snow  or  hail,  the  latter  often  as  large  as 
nuts;  and  we  were  forced  to  put  our  knapsacks  on  our 
heads  to  protect  us  from  its  violence.  The  frost  was  most 
severe,  accompanied  by  high  winds.  Often  for  whole  days 
and  nights  we  could  not  get  a  tent  to  stand ;  many  of  us 
were  frost-bitten,  and  others  were  found  dead  at  their  posts. 
On  our  march,  the  rain  poured  in  torrents ;  and  melted 
snow  was  half  knee-deep  in  many  places,  and  stained  by 
the  blood  that  flowed  from  our  bruised  and  wounded  feet. 
There  was  nothing  to  sustain  our  famished  bodies,  or  shel- 
ter them  from  the  rain  or  snow.  We  were  either  drenched 
with  rain,  or  crackling  with  ice.  Fuel  we  could  find  none. 
The  sick  and  the  wounded  whom  we  had  been  still  enabled 
with  our  own  hands  to  drag  along  with  us  in  wagons,  were 
now  left  to  perish  in  the  snow.  The  road  was  one  line 
of  bloody  foot-marks  from  the  sore  feet  of  the  men ;  and 
on  its  sides  lay  the  dead  and  the  dying." 

Just  glance  at  the  havoc  occasioned  by  forced   and  ex- 


167  '  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  7 

hausting  marches.  The  French  soldiers,  on  their  retreat 
from  Moscow,  would,  on  halting  at  night,  throng  into 
the  houses,  throw  themselves  down  on  the  first  dirty  straw 
they  could  find,  and  there  perish,  in  large  numbers,  with 
hunger  and  fatigue.  From  such  sufferings,  and  from  the 
infection  of  the  air  in  the  warmer  season  by  putrefied  car- 
casses of  men  and  horses  that  strewed  the  road,  there 
sprang  two  dreadful  diseases,  the  dysentery  and  typhus 
fever,  before  which  they  melted  away  like  dew  before  the 
sun.  At  times  they  were  so  overwhelmed  with  whirlwinds 
of  snow,  that  they  could  not  distinguish  the  road  from  the 
ditches,  and  often  found  their  grave  in  the  latter.  The 
roads,  league  after  league,  were  chequered  with  dead  bodies 
covered  with  snow,  and  forming  undulations  or  hillocks 
like  those  in  a  grave-yard.  Many  of  the  survivors  scarce 
retained  the  human  form.  Some  had  lost  their  hearing, 
others  their  speech;  and  many,  by  excessive  cold  and 
"hunger,  were  reduced  to  a  state  of  such  stupid  phrenzy, 
that  they  roasted  the  dead  bodies  of  their  companions,  and 
even  gnawed  their  own  hands  and  arms.  "  No  grenade 
or  grape,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  could  have  so  disfigured 
those  victims  of  the  cold.  One  of  them  had  lost  the  upper 
joints  of  all  his  ten  fingers ;  and  he  showed  us  the  stumps. 
Another  wanted  both  ears  and  nose.  More  horrible  still 
was  the  look  of  a  third  whose  eyes  had  been  frozen ;  the 
eye-lids  hung  down  rotting,  the  globes  of  the  eyes  were 
burst,  and  protruded  from  their  sockets.  It  was  awfully 
hideous ;  But  a  sp^tacle  yet  more  dreadful  was  to  present 
itself  Out  of  the  straw  in  the  car  that  brought  them,  I 
now  beheld  a  figure  creep  painfully,  which  one  could 
scarcely  believe  to  be  a  human  being,  so  wild  and  distorted 
were  the  features.  The  lips  were  rotted  away,  the  teeth 
stood  exposed ;  he  pulled  the  cloth  from  before  his  mouth, 
and  grinned  on  us  like  a  death's-head  ! " 

How  many  perish  from  such  causes,  we  cannot  conjec- 
ture ;  but  in  the  Russian  campaign  of  1812,  so  fatal  was 
the  effect  of  hunger  and  fatigue,  exposure  and  disease,  that 
of  2*2,000  Bavarians,  though  they  had  been  in  no  action, 
only  11,000  lived  to  reach  the  Duna,  and  the  very 
flower  of  the  French  and  the  allied  armies  perished.  A 
division  of  the  Russian  forces,  amounting  to  120,000  at 
the  commencement  of  the  pursuit,  could  not  near  Warsaw 
muster  35,000  ;  and  a  re-enforcement  of  10,000,  that  had 
marched  from  Wilna,  arrived  with  only  1500,  of  whom  one 


»  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR. 

half  were  the  next  day  in  the  hospitals.  Not  a  few  com- 
panies were  utterly  annihilated  without  a  single  stroke  froni 
the  enemy  ! 

Such  is  the  waste  of  life  in  war  from  other  causes  than 
the  sword  ;  and  even  in  peace  the  mortality  among  soldiers 
is  about  twice  as  great  as  among  citizens.  A  memoir,  read 
before  the  French  Academy  by  a  distinguished  writer,  states 
that  in  seven  years  of  peace,  (1820-6)  the  mortality  in  the 
French  army  averaged  2.254  in  the  hundred,  while  in 
France  it  is  only  1.22 ;  nor  does  it  ordinarily  reach  even 
two  per  cent,  before  the  age  of  fifty  or  sixty.  Of  2360 
galley  slaves,  thirty-nine  died  from  1824-27  ;  only  1.652  in 
the  hundred,  or  little  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  mortality 
among  soldiers.  Though  generally  young  and  robust,  they 
live  in  a  time  of  war  an  average  of  about  three  years ;  and 
even  in  peace  their  life  is  probably  cut  short  not  less  than 
fifteen  years. 

But  no  record  is  kept  of  peaceful  inhabitants  who  perish 
in  every  country  where  war  rages.  In  Madrid  and  other 
cities  of  Spain,  the  French,  in  the  days  of  Napoleon, 
forced  their  way  into  the  houses  of  citizens,  bayonetted  all 
within  that  chanced  to  have  arms,  and  stationed  parties  of 
cavalry  at  the  different  outlets  of  the  town  to  cut  off  those 
who  should  try  to  escape.  In  Portugal  they  burnt  villages 
and  towns,  butchered  prisoners,  and  massacred  without  dis- 
tinction all  classes  of  society  ;  and,  in  their  retreat  from 
that  ill-fated  country,  they  literally  strewed  the  roads  with 
the  dead  bodies  of  nobles  and  peasants,  of  women,  and 
children,  and  priests,  all  put  to  death  like  so  many  dogs. 

Of  such  havoc  it  is  impossible  to  form  any  estimate  or 
conjecture ;  but  we  know  that  war  has  sometimes  entirely 
depopulated  immense  districts.  In  modern  as  well  as  an- 
cient times,  large  tracts  have  been  left  so  utterly  desolate, 
that  a  traveller  might  pass  from  village  to  village,  even  from 
city  to  city,  without  finding  a  solitary  inhabitant !  The 
war  of  1756,  waged  in  the  heart  of  Europe,  left  in  one  in- 
stance no  less  than  twenty  contiguous  villages  without  a 
single  man  or  beast !  In  one  ancient  campaign,  50,000  la- 
borers died  of  hunger ;  Hannibal  alone,  in  sixteen  years, 
plundered  no  less  than  four  hundred  towns;  the  barbarous 
invaders  of  the  Roman  Empire  sometimes  swept  all  the  in- 
habitants from  province  after  province ;  and  some  of  the 
most  notorious  conquerors  have,  like  Jenghiz-khan,  waged 
wars  of  utter  extermination,  and  butchered  thousands  and 


169  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  9 

millions  of  unarmed  men,  women  and  children  in  cold 
blood. 

Let  us  quote  the  testimony  of  an  eminent  reviewer  to  the 
general  havoc  of  life  in  war  :  "  The  levies  of  soldiers  in 
France,  during  her  late  wars,  exceeded  four  millions,  and 
not  less  than  three  millions  of  these,  on  the  lowest  calcula- 
tion, perished  in  the  field,  the  hospital,  or  the  bivouac.  If 
to  these  we  add,  as  we  unquestionably  must,  at  least  an 
equal  number  out  of  the  ranks  of  their  antagonists,  it  is 
clear  that  not  less  ihan  six  millions  of  human  beings,  in 
the  course  of  twenty  years,  perished  by  war  in  the  very 
heart  of  civilized  Europe,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  But  even  these  stupendous  numbers 
give  us  no  adequate  conception  of  the  destruction  of  hu- 
man life  directly  consequent  on  the  wars  of  the  revolution 
and  the  empire.  We  must  add  the  thousands  who  perished 
from  want,  outrage  and  exposure,  and  the  hundreds  of 
thousands  who  were  subsequently  swept  away  by  the  rav- 
ages of  that  pestilence  which  took  its  rise  amid  the  retreat 
from  Russia,  and  the  crowded  garrisons  of  the  campaign 
of  1813,  and  for  several  years  afterwards  desolated  in  suc- 
cession every  country  of  Europe." 

We  can  scarcely  glance  at  the  multitudes  that  perish  in 
sieges  and  hospitals.  In  the  latter  alone  nearly  as  many 
die  as  on  the  field  of  battle  ;  nor  will  such  a  statement 
seem  exaggerated  to  any  one  who  will  minutely  investigate 
this  loathsome  and  horrid  subject.  Look  at  the  havoc  of 
sieges.  In  that  of  Londonderry,  1689,  there  perished  more 
than  12,000  soldiers,  besides  a  vast  number  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. During  the  siege  of  Paris,  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
the  famine  was  so  severe  that  mothers  ate  their  own  chil- 
dren, and  30,000  persons  died  of  hunger  alone.  In  the 
siege  of  Magdeburg,  1631,  more  than  5000  of  the  slain 
were  thrown  into  the  Elbe,  to  clear  the  streets;  and  a 
much  greater  number  had  been  consumed  in  the  flames ; 
the  victims  of  famine,  disease  and  hardship  could  not  be 
reckoned ;  but  the  sum  total  of  the  lost  was  estimated  at 
30,000.  Such  was  the  havoc  of  life  at  the  storming  of 
Belgrade,  1717,  that  "  the  Jews  were  compelled  to  throw 
into  the  Danube  the  bodies  of  12,000  slain,  merely  to  spare 
the  trouble  and  expense  of  burying  them."  In  the  siege 
of  Malplaquet  in  the  north-east  of  France,  1709,  there  fell 
on  both  sides  no  tess  than  34,000  soldiers  alone.  The 
storming  ofHlsmail  by  Suwarrow,  1790,  cost  40,000  men. 


10  LOSS    OF    LIFE    BY    WAR.  170 

In  the  siege  of  Hamburgh,  1813,  there  perished  15,000  of 
the  garrison,  besides  all  the  victims  among  the  inhabitants, 
and  the  besieging  army.  In  the  siege  of  Mexico,  more 
than  100,000  were  slain  in  battle,  and  upwards  of  50,000 
more  died  from  the  infection  of  putrefying  carcasses.  The 
siege  of  Vienna  sacrificed  70,000  lives,  and  that  of  Ostend 
120,000.  At  the  siege  of  Acre,  by  the  Crusaders,  300,000 
fell ;  ancient  Carthage,  containing  700,000  inhabitants,  was 
so  utterly  destroyed,  that  not  a  single  edifice  was  left  stand- 
ing; during  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  1,100,000  persons 
perished,  and  during  that  of  Troy,  according  to  Burton, 
not  less  than  946,000  Trojans,  and  870,000  Greeks ;  in 
all,  1,816,000  for  a  worthless  courtezan! 

Mark  the  havoc  of  single  battles.  At  Durham,  1346, 
there  fell  15,000 ;  at  Halidonhill  and  Agincourt,  20,000 
each ;  at  Bautzen  and  Lepanto,  25,000  each ;  at  Auster- 
litz,  Jena  and  Lutzen,  30,000  each  ;  at  Eylau,  60,000  ;  at 
Waterloo  and  Quatre  Bras,  one  engagement,  70,000;  at 
Borodino,  80,000;  at  Fontenoy,  100,000;  at  Yarmouth, 
150,000;  at  Chalons,  no  less  than  300,000  of  Attila's 
army  alone  !  The  Moors  in  Spain,  about  the  year  800, 
lost  in  one  battle  70,000 ;  in  another,  four  centuries  later, 
180,000,  besides  50,000  prisoners,  and  in  a  third,  even 
200,000.  Still  greater  was  the  carnage  in  ancient  times. 
At  Cannae,  70,000  fell.  The  Romans  alone,  in  an  engage- 
ment with  the  Cimbri  and  Teutones,  lost  80,000.  The 
Carthagenians  attacked  Hymera  in  Sicily  with  an  army  of 
300,000  men,  and  a  fleet  of  2000  ships,  and  3000  trans- 
ports; but  not  a  ship  nor  a  transport  escaped  destruction, 
and  of  the  troops,  only  a  few  in  a  small  boat  reached  Car- 
thage with  tlie  melancholy  tidings.  Marius  slew,  in  one 
battle,  140,000  Gauls,  and  in  another,  290,000.  In  the 
battle  of  Issus,  between  Alexander  and  Darius,  110,000 
were  slain,  and  in  that  of  Arbela,  300,000.  Julius  Caesar. 
once  annihilated  an  army  of  363,000  Helvetians  ;  in  a  bat- 
tle with  the  Usipetes,  he  slew  ^00,000  ;  and  on  another  oc- 
cjxsion,  he  massacred  more  than  430,000  Germans,  who 
"  had  crossed  the  Rhine,  with  their  herds,  and  flocks,  and 
little  ones,  in  quest  of  new  settlements." 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  havoc  of  aqcient  warfare. 
During  a  single  war  of  the  northern  barbarians  in  Africa, 
no  less  than  five  millions,  according  to  Procopius,  perished 
by  the  sword,  famine  and  pestilence ;  and  in  the  war  of 
twenty  years  waged   by  Justinian   against   the  barbarous 


171  -  LOSS    OP    LIFE    BY   WAR.  11 

hordes  that  poured  into  Italy,  the  Goths  alone  are  supposed 
to  have  lost  more  than  fifteen  millions  ! 

Look  at  two  cases  more.  The  army  of  Xerxes,  accord-' 
ing  to  Rollin,  was  composed  of  1,700,000  foot,  80,000 
ho'rse,  and  20,000  men  for  conducting  the  carriages  and 
camels.  On  passing  the  Hellespont,  he  received  a  re-en- 
forcement of  300,000,  making  the  whole  2,100,000.  His 
fleet  consisted  of  1207  vessels,  each  carrying  230  men  ;  in 
all,  277,610  men.  This  number  was  augmented  from  the 
European  nations  with  1200  vessels  carrying  240,000  men ; 
and  on  board  the  small  galleys,  transports,  and  other  craft, 
to  the  number  of  3000,  were  240,000  more  men.  In- 
cluding the  multitude  of  usual  attendants  on  an  army  in 
the  East,  Dr.  Dick  supposes  "  the  whole  number  of  souls 
that  follovved  Xerxes  into  Greece,  must  have  amounted  to 
5,283,320 ;"  and,  if  the  attendants  were  onl^  one-third  as 
great  as  common  at  the  present  day  in  Eastern  countries, 
the  sum  total  must  have  reached  nearly  six  millions  !  What 
became  of  this  vast  multitude  ?  In  one  year  it  was  re- 
duced to  300,000  fighting  men ;  and  of  these  only  3000 
escaped  destruction.  More  than  five  millions  lost  in  a 
single  year ! 

During  the  thirteenth  century  arose  Jenghiz-khan,  and 
ravaged  the  heart  of  Asia.  His  armies  sometimes  exceeded 
a  million,  and  his  wars  were  those  of  utter  extermina- 
tion. He  seemed  the  war-demon  incarnate.  His  spirit 
feasted  on  death.  On  the  plains  of  Nessa,  he  shot  90,000 
persons  in  cold  blood.  At  the  storming  of  Kharasm,  he 
massacred  200,000,  and  sold  100,000  for  slaves.  In  the 
district  of  Herat,  he  butchered  1,600,000,  and  in  two  cities 
with  their  dependencies,  1,760,000.  During  the  last  twen- 
ty-seven years  of  his  idJig  reign,  he  is  said  to  have  massa- 
cred an  average  of  more  than  half  a  million  every  year  ; 
and  in  the  first  fourteen  years,  he  is  supposed  by  Chinese 
historians  to  have  destroyed  not  less  than  eighteen  mil- 
lions; a  sum  total  of  32,000,000  human  beings  sacrificed 
in  forty-one  years  by  a  single  hand  on  the  Moloch  shrine 
of  war  ! 

Do  you  ask,  now,  for  an  epitome  of  the  havoc  war  has 
made  of  human  life?  In  the  Russian  campaign,  there 
perished  in  less  than  six  months  nearly  half  a  million  of 
the  French  alone,  and  perhaps  as  many  more  of  their  ene- 
mies. During  only  twelve  years  of  the  recent  wars  of 
Europe,  no  less  than  5,800,000  Christian  lives  are  supposed 


tSS  LOSS    OP  XIFE    BY    WAR.  172 

to  have  been  lost.  Even  the  French  admit,'  that  the  wars 
of  Napoleon  alone  must  have  sacrificed  six  millions ;  and, 
if  we  reckon  all  the  victims,  both  among  the  soldiers  and 
the  people,  of  the  wars  consequent  on  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, the  sum  total  cannot  be  less  than  nine  or  ten  millions. 
The  Spaniards  are  said  to  have  destroyed  in  forty-two  years 
more  than  twelve  millions  of  American  Indians.  The  wars 
in  the  time  of  Sesostris  cost  15,000,000  lives ;  those  of 
Semiramis,  Cyrus  and  Alexander,  10,000,000  each ;  those 
of  Alexander's  successors,  20,000,000.  Grecian  wars  sac- 
rificed 15,000,000  ;  Jewish  wars,  25,000,000 ;  the  wars  of 
the  twelve  Ccesars,  30,000,000  in  all ;  the  wars  of  the  Ro- 
mans before  Julius  Caesar,  60,000,000  ;  the  wars  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  of  the  Saracens  and  the  Turks,  60,000,000 
each  ;  the  wars  of  the  Reformation,  30,000,000  ;  those  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  nine  Crusades  in  two  centuries, 
40,000,000  each  ;  those  of  the  Tartars,  80,000,000  ;  those 
of  Africa,  100,000,000 ! 

Such  estimates  may  well  seem  incredible ;  but  we  have 
taken  them  all  from  sources  entitled  to  credit.  On  such  a 
subject,  perfect  accuracy  is  impossible ;  you  might  as  well 
think  of  counting  the  spires  of  grass  on  the  whole  globe, 
or  the  drops  of  rain  that  fell  in  Noah's  flood ;  but,  if  the 
foregoing  statements  make  any  approximation  to  the  truth, 
the  entire  havoc  of  human  life  by  war  must  defy  our  utmost 
powers  of  conception.  "  If  we  take  into  consideration," 
says  the  learned  Dr.  Dick,  *'  the  number  not  only  of  those 
who  have  fallen  in  battle,  but  of  those  who  have  perished 
through  the  natural  consequences  of  war,  it  will  not  perhaps 
be  overrating  the  destruction  of  human  life,  if  we  affirm, 
that  one-tenth  of  the  human  race  has  been  destroyed  by  the 
ravages  of  war;  and,  according  fo  this  estimate,  more 
than  fourteen  thousand  millions  of  human  beings  have  been 
slaughtered  in  war  since  the  beginning  of  the  world."  Ed- 
mund Burke  went  still  further,  and  reckoned  the  sum  total 
of  its  ravages  from  the  first   at  no  less  than  thirty-five 

THOUSAND    MILLIONS  ! 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXI. 

WITNESSES   FOR  PEACE. 


"  America,"  says  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jeffries,  a  distinguished  Eng- 
lish Episcopal  Missionary,  and  one  of  the  Chaplains  of  the  East 
India  Company,  "  America  has  the  honor  of  inventing  two  of  the 
most  valuable  institutions  that  ever  blessed  mankind, — the  Peace 
Society,  and  tlie  Temperance  Society ;  and,  if  every  American 
viewed  them  as  I  do,  he  would  join  them  iminediately."  The  cause 
of  peace  is  common  to  all  Christians  ;  and  from  men  of  eminence 
in  different  denominations,  we  will  quote  a  few  specimens  of  their 
views  on  this  subject. 

Wycliffe,  the  Reformer,  deserves  to  stand  at  the  head  of 
them  all.  "  What  honor  falls  to  a  knight  that  kills  many  men  ? 
The  hangman  killeth  many  more,  and  with  a  better  title.  Better 
were  it  for  men  to  be  butchers  of  beasts  than  butchers  of  their 
brethren !  As,  according  to  common  law,  no  man  will  make  battle, 
except  he  have  leave  from  tlie  prince  of  the  people ;  so  no  man 
should  take  vengeance,  unless  God  move  him,  and  warn  him  as 
his  instrument,  saying  hoiv  he  will  liave  vengeance. 

Methodists. — Let  us  hear  the  father  of  Metliodism,  John 
Wesley.  "  You  may  pour  out  your  soul,  and  bemoan  the  loss  of 
true,  genuine  love  in  tlie  earth.  Lost  indeed !  you  may  well  say, 
but  not  in  the  ancient  sense.  »S'ee  how  these  Christiaivs  love  one 
anotker !  These  Christian  kingdoms  that  are  tearing  out  each 
other's  bowels,  desolating  one  another  with  fire  and  sword !  These 
Christian  armies  that  are  sending  each  other  by  thousands,  by  tens 
of  thousands,  quick  to  hell !  These  Christian  nations  that  are  all 
on  fire  with  intestine  broils,  party  against  party,  faction  against 
faction !  Yea,  what  is  most  dreadful  of  all,  these  Christian  churches, 
(tell  it  not  in  Gath ;  but,  alas !  how  can  we  hide  it  from  Jews, 
Turks  or  Pagans  ?)  that  bear  the  name  of  Christ,  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  yet  wage  continual  war  with  each  other !  O  God !  how 
long  will  thy  promise  fail  ? 

EpiscoPALiAiVS. — Soame  Jenyns.  If  Christian  nations  were  na- 
tions of  Christians,  all  Avar  would  be  impossible  and  unknown 
among  them. 

Thomas  Scott.  War  in  every  case  must  be  deemed  the  triumph 
or  the  harvest  of  the  first  great  murderer,  the  devil. 

Bishop  Waison.  Christianity  looks  upon  all  the  human  race  as 
children  of  the  same  father ;  and  in  ordering  us  to  do  good,  to  love 
as  bretliren,  to  forgive  injuries,  and  to  study  peace,  it  quite  anni- 
hilates the  disposition  for  martial  glory,  and  utterly  debases  the 
pomp  of  war. 

Dr.  Jortin.  The  consequences  of  war  are  too  well  known. 
They  are  the  desolation  of  populous  and  flourishing  regions,  the 

p.  T.      NO.  XXI. 


2    •  WITNESSES    FOR    PEACE.  174 

loss  of  tn^e,  the  incre^e  of  taxes  and  debts,  poverty  both  public 
and  private,  the  destruction  of  thousands,  and  the  ruin  of  almost 
as  many  families,  besides  the  sicknesses,  the  famines,  the  iniqui- 
ties and  cruelties  which  always  accompany  a  state  of  hostility. — 
The  wars  continually  waged  by  Christian  nations,  are  most  noto- 
rious offences  against  the  sixth  commandment,  against  the  law  of 
nature,  against  the  laws  of  God  given  by  Moses,  against  the 
Christian  religion.  In  all  wars,  one  side  is  in  fault,  sometimes 
both  ;  and  in  this  case  war  is  no  better  than  robbery  and  murder, 
the  guilt  of  which  lies,  I  do  not  say,  upon  the  soldiers,  but  upon 
those  in  whose  hands  is  lodged  the  power  of  declaring  war. 

Baptists. — fVard,  the  veteran  and  venerable  missionary,  says, 
"  the  glory  of  our  Christian  profession  lies  in  our  business  on  earth 
resembling  the  work  which  the  Father  gave  to  Christ  to  do  ;  but 
how  unfavorable  to  this  is  the  profession  of  arms  !  Ratlier,  how 
totally  incompatible  with  it !  Christianity  says,  love  your  enemies ; 
the  maxims  of  statesmen  say,  kill  them  off.  Christ  says,  resist  not 
evil ;  the  statesman  saivs,  fight,  and  leave  the  reasons  to  me. — What 
a  shocking  sight  to  tie  a  handkerchief  over  a  man's  eyes,  and  tell 
him  to  shoot  in  the  crowd  at  persons  whom  he  never  saw,  a  com- 
pany of  fathers,  sons,  brothers ;  but,  more  tlian  this,  a  company  of 
men  Avho  have  to  live  forever  in  happiness  or  misery,  and  every 
bullet  perhaps  sends  a  man  to  hell.  Either  our  religion  is  a  fable, 
or  there  are  unanswerable  arguments,  (urged,  it  is  true,  till  they 
are  stale  enough,)  against  war,  and  the  profession  of  arms.  Thou 
shall  do  no  murder.  '  One  murder  makes  a  villain ;  millions,  a 
hero.'  Where  ?  At  the  bar  of  God  ?  I  trow  not  Satan  was  a 
murderer  from  the  beginning,  a  kind  of  hero  reigning  in  hell. 

Judson,  the  Apostle  of  Burmah,  says,  "  I  hail  the  establishment 
of  peace  societies  as  one  of  the  most  auspicious  signs  of  the  pres- 
ent eventfiil  era,  and  regard  them  as  combining  with  Bible  and  mis- 
sionary societies  to  form  that  three-fold  cord  which  will  ultimately 
bind  all  the  families  of  man  in  universal  peace  and  love. — Since 
war  has  been  universally  advocated  and  applauded,  it  appears  to  me 
that  it  is  not  optional  with  any  to  remain  neutral  or  silent  on  this 
great  question ;  since,  thus  remaining,  they  must  be  considered 
as  belonging  of  course  to  tlie  war  party.  Notwithstanding,  tiiere- 
fore,  I  am  a  missionary,  I  have  for  some  time  determined  to  make 
whatever  efforts  were  necessary  to  comply  with  the  dictates  of 
conscience,  and  wash  my  hands  of  the  blood  tliat  is  shed  in  war. 
I  regret  that  I  have  so  long  delaye^  to  enter  my  protest  against 
this  practice  by  some  overt  act ;  a  measure  which  appears,  in  the 
present  state  of  things,  the  indispensable  duty  of  every  Christian. 

Presbyterians.— />r.  Madeod.  War  is  a  school  of  vice,  a 
nursery  of  debauchery.  By  it  cities  are  sacked,  and  countries  laid 
waste.  The  dearest  ties  of  kindred  are  unloosed ;  fathers  made 
childless,  children  fatherless,  and  wives  converted  into  widows. 
What  more  cruel,  and  less  congenial  with  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  ? 

Dr.  Berrmn.  The  character  of  war  is  not  less  incompatible 
with  the  genius  of  the  gospel,  and  an  advanced  stage  of  intellec- 
tual refinement,  than  that  of  despotism  or  slavery.    It  is  a  relict 


175  WITNESSES    FOR    PEACE.  3 

of  barbarism  which  would  long  since  have  disappeared  from  hu- 
man society,  had  the  laws  of  nations  kept  pace  with  the  positive 
statutes  which  govern  tlie  political  and  social  compact.  With  two 
guardian  angels, — Christianity  on  my  right  hand,  and  Science  on 
my  left, — methinks  I  am  conducted  to  an  eminence  from  which  I 
survey  the  surrounding  and  subjected  world.  The  freshness  of 
Eden  covers  tiie  scene,  and  the  smile  of  heaven  gilds  the  prospect. 
The  trumpet  of  carnage  is  blown  no  more  ;  nor  does  the  crimson 
flag  ever  again  unfurl  itself  to  the  breeze.  The  demon  of  ven- 
geance, ever  hungry  for  human  flesh,  is  chained,  and  commis- 
sioned no  more  to  imprint  his  bloody  footsteps  upon  the  earth ;  nor 
do  the  sighing  zephyrs  ever  again  wafl;  the  death-groans  of  mur- 
dered victims.  The  ensanguined  field  is  no  more  covered  with 
the  mangled  bodies  of  the  slain  ;  nor  do  the  broad  streams  of 
blood  ever  again  pursue  their  dark,  and  deep,  and  melancholy 
course  amidst  the  shouts  of  victory,  and  the  agonies  of  despair. 
The  wife  is  no  more  hastened  into  widowhood,  nor  her  babes  con- 
signed to  orphanage.  The  bow  of  victory  is  broken,  the  spear  of 
death  is  cut  asunder,  and  the  chariot  of  conquest  is  burned  in  the 
fire.  This  is  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  sought ;  an  enter- 
prise which  may  well  command  our  most  vigorous  efibrts  while  we 
live,  and  the  successful  termination  of  which  will  deserve  to  be 
perpetuated  by  a  monument  as  high  as  heaven. 

CoNGREGATiONALisTs. — Dr.  Dwight.  War  has  prevailed  in 
every  age,  and  through  every  country ;  and  in  all  it  has  waded 
through  human  blood,  trampled  on  human  corpses,  and  laid  waste 
the  fields  and  dAvellings,  the  happiness  ahd  the  hopes  of  mankind. 
It  has  been  employed  to  empty  earth,  and  people  hell,  to  make 
angels  weep,  and  fiends  triumph  over  the  deplorable  guilt  and  de- 
basement of  the  human  character.  We  slaughter  thousands  and 
millions  in  war,  and  then  plant  laurels  amid  the  bones,  and  nourish 
them  with  the  blood  of  those  whom  we  have  destroyed.  Yet,  to 
men  of  such  characters,  statues  are  erected,  nay,  temples  have 
been  built,  and  altars  have  smoked  with  victims.  To  them  the 
page  of  the  historian,  and  the  harp  of  the  poet  are  consecrated. 
To  their  praise  the  sculptor  bids  the  marble  breathe,  and  the 
painter  teaches  the  canvass  to  glow.  They  live  in  palaces,  and 
are  entombed  in  mausoleums. 

Dr.  Jippleton.  If  the  suflTerings  of  the  soldier  are  great  in  the 
camp,  they  are  terrible  in  the  field.  I  can  hardly  imagine  a  scene 
more  dreadful  than  that  which  is  subsequent  to  the  hour  of  battle. 
Suppose  yourself  in  a  hospital  crowded  with  the  wounded  and  the 
dying.  Here  one  limb  has  been  shattered,  and  another  severed 
from  the  body.  Here  some  part  of  the  body  itself  has  been 
pierced  through,  or  still  retains  the  weapon  which  inflicted  the 
wound.  In  that  comer  you  behold  a  wretch  with  his  head 
lacerated,  his  jaws  fractured,  or  an  eye  dislocated.  In  another 
you  see  those  whom  want  of  reason  renders  unconscious  of  their 
etate,  or  those  who  are  frantic,  and  perhaps  blaspheming  under 
the  intolerable  severity  of  their  anguish.  Here  is  one  impatient 
for  tiie  knife  and  the  tourniquet,  from  a  conviction  that  his  present 


4  WITNESSES    FOR   PEACE.  176 

pains  cannot  be  augmented.  There  is  one  shrieking  under  opera- 
tions more  painful  than  the  malady  tliey  are  designed  to  assuage. 

Look  now  at  tlie  condition  of  tlie  common  inhabitants  in  a  coun- 
jy  where  contending  armies  are  stationed.  The  regular  pursuits 
of  life  must  be  interrupted  or  abandoned.  Honor,  property  and 
life  itself  are  at  the  mercy  of  those  whom  no  earthly  power  is  able 
to  control,  and  who  perhaps  will  acknowledge  no  law  but  their 
own  wants  and  passions.  Children  and  females,  the  aged  and  the 
feeble,  find  themselves  surrounded  by  every  terror,  and  exposed  to 
every  indignity.  Ferocious  troops  are  quartered  in  houses  which 
had  been  the  abodes  of  wealth,  taste  and  domestic  enjoyment 
The  owners,  if  not  arrested,  are  constrained  to  witness  tliese  rav- 
ages without  complaint,  and  compelled  to  become  tlie  slaves  of 
those  by  whom  they  are  impoverished.  Churches  and  public  edi- 
fices are  converted  into  barracks  ;  rich  gardens  are  plundered  and 
laid  waste  ;  and  harvests  are  consumed  in  a  day  to  give  forage  to 
a  devouring  cavalry.  All  enclosures  are  made  common ;  flocks 
and  herds  are  slaughtered  and  consumed ;  wardrobes  are  despoiled, 
and  store-houses  exhausted.  Do  not  Christian  nations,  then,  worship 
an  idol  more  savage  and  hideous  than  the  Moloch  of  the  Hindoos  ? 

Dr.  Paysoiu  War  is  surrounded  by  a  deceitful  lustre.  The 
monster,  unveiled  in  all  his  deformity,  is  seen  steeped  from  head 
to  foot  in  human  gore,  gorging  his  insatiable  maw  with  the  yet 
quivering  limbs  of  mangled  victims,  and  feasting  his  ears  with  the 
wailings  of  disconsolate  widows  and  helpless  orphans ;  while  the 
flash  of  cannon,  the  glare  of  bombs,  and  the  red  blaze  of  cities 
wrapt  in  conflagration,  furnish  the  only  light  which  illuminates  his 
horrid  banquet.  Such  is  the  idol  M'hom  the  votaries  of  war  adore ; 
such  tlie  Moloch  on  whose  altars  men  have  exultingly  sacrificed, 
not  hecatombs  of  beasts,  but  millions  of  their  fellow  creatures  ;  on 
whose  blood-thirsty  worshippers  beauty  has  lavished  her  smiles, 
and  genius  its  eulogies ;  whose  horrid  triumphs,  fit  only  to  be  cele- 
brated in  the  infernal  world,  painters  and  sculptors,  poets  and  histo- 
rians, have  combined  to  surround  witli  a  blaze  of  immortal  glory. 

But  let  the  monster's  hideous  form  be  exposed  in  its  true  colors ; 
and  it  will  be  an  honor  to  Christianity,  a  powerful  argument  in  her 
favor,  to  be  known  as  his  most  decided  and  successful  foe.  To 
accomplish  this  work,  to  place  before  men  in  naked  deformity  the 
idol  they  have  so  long  ignorantly  worshipped  in  disguise,  and  thus 
turn  against  him  the  powerful  current  of  public  opinion,  is  the 
great  object  of  tlie  associated  fi-iends  of  peace.  Nor  is  it  easy  to 
conceive  how  any  one  who  believes  the  Scriptures,  and  professes 
to  be  a  disciple  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  or  a  friend  to  tlie  human 
race,  can  justify  himself  in  ivithholdin^  his  aid  from  a  cause  so 
evidently  the  cause  of  God.  Who  would  not  wish  to  share  this 
honor  ?  After  tlie  glorious  victory  shall  have  been  won,  after 
wars  shall  have  been  made  to  cease  under  the  whole  heaven,  who 
will  not  then  wish  to  have  been  among  the  few  that  first  unfurled 
the  consecrated  banner  of  peace  ? 

AMERICAN   PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  xxn. 
VIEWS    OF    WAR.* 


By   ROBERT    HALL. 

Real  war  is  a  very  different  thing  from  that  painted  image  of 
it  which  you  see  on  parade,  or  at  a  review.  It  is  the  most  awful 
scourge  that  Providence  employs  for  the  chastisement  of  man.  It 
is  the  garment  of  vengeance  with  which  the  Deity  arrays  himself, 
when  he  comes  forth  to  punish  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth.  It  is 
the  day  of  the  Lord,  cruel  both  ivith  wrath  and  fierce  anger.  Let  us 
consider  it  in  two  views — as  a  source  of  misery y  and  as  a  source  of 
crimes. 

It  is  impossible  for  a  humane  mind  to  contemplate  the  rapid 
extinction  of  innumerable  lives  without  concern.  To  perish  in  a 
moment,  to  be  hurried  instantaneously,  without  preparation  and 
without  warning,  into  the  presence  of  the  Supreme  Judge,  has 
something  in  it  inexpressibly  awful  and  affecting.  In  war  death 
reigns  without  a  rival,  and  without  control.  War  is  the  work,  the 
element,  or  rather  the  sport  and  triumph  of  death,  who  glories,  not 
only  in  the  extent  of  his  conquest,  but  in  the  richness  of  his  spoil. 
In  the  other  methods  of  attack,  in  the  other  forms  which  death 
assumes,  the  feeble  and  the  aged,  who  at  the  best  can  live  but  a 
short  time,  are  usually  the  victims ;  here  it  is  the  vigorous  and  the 
strong.  It  is  remarked  by  an  ancient  historian,  that  in  peace  chil- 
dren bury  their  parents,  in  war  parents  bury  their  children ;  nor  is 
the  difference  small.  Children  lament  their  parents,  sincerely 
indeed,  but  with  that  moderate  and  tranquil  sorrow  which  it  is 
natural  for  those  to  feel  who  are  conscious  of  retaining  many  ten- 
der ties,  many  animating  prospects.  Parents  mourn  for  their 
children  with  the  bitterness  of  despair ;  the  aged  parent,  the  wid- 
owed mother,  loses,  when  she  is  deprived  of  her  children,  every 
thing  but  the  capacity  of  suffering ;  her  heart,  withered  and  deso- 
late, admits  no  other  object,  cherishes  no  other  hope.  It  is  Rachel 
iveeping  for  her  children,  and  refusing  to  be  cornforted,  because  they 
are  not. 

But,  to  confine  our  attention  to  the  number  of  the  slain  would 
give  us  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  the  ravages  of  the  sword.  The 
lot  of  those  who  perish  instantaneously  may  be  considered,  apart 
from  religious  prospects,  as  comparatively  happy,  since  they  are 
exempt  from  those  lingering  diseases  and  slow  torments  to  which 
others  are  liable.  We  cannot  see  an  individual  expire,  though  a 
stranger  or  an  enemy,  without  being  sensibly  moved,  and  prompted 
by  compassion  to  lend  him  every  assistance  in  our  power.  Every 
trace  of  resentment  vanishes  in  a  moment ;  every  other  emotion 
gives  way  to  pity  and  terror.    In  these  last  extremities  we  remem- 

*  From  Mr.  Hall's  Sermon  entitled  Refections  on  War. 
P.  T.       NO.   XXII. 


9*  VIEWS    OF    WAR.     •  178 

ber  nothing  but  the  respect  and  tenderness  due  to  our  common 
nature.  What  a  scene  then  must  a  field  of  battle  present,  where 
thousands  are  left  without  assistance  and  without  pity,  with  their 
wounds  exposed  to  the  piercing  air,  while  the  blood,  freezing  as  it 
flows,  binds  them  to  tlie  earth,  amid  the  trampling  of  horses,  and 
the  insults  of  an  enraged  foe !  If  they  are  spared  by  the  humanity 
of  the  enemy,  and  carried  from  tlie  field,  it  is  but  a  prolongation 
of  torment  Conveyed  in  uneasy  vehicles,  often  to  a  remote  dis- 
tance, through  roads  almost  impassable,  they  are  lodged  in  ill- 
prepared  receptacles  for  the  wounded  and  the  sick,  Avhere  the 
variety  of  distress  baffles  all  the  efforts  of  humanity  and  skill,  and 
renders  it  impossible  to  give  to  each  the  attention  he  demands. 
Far  from  their  native  home,  no  tender  assiduities  of  friendship,  no 
well-known  voice,  no  wife,  or  mother,  or  sister  is  near  to  soothe 
their  sorrows,  relieve  their  tliirst,  or  close  their  eyes  in  death. 
Unhappy  man !  and  must  you  be  swept  into  the  grave  unnoticed 
and  unnumbered,  and  no  friendly  tear  be  shed  for  your  sufferings, 
or  mingled  with  your  dust ! 

We  must  remember,  however,  tliat  as  a  very  small  proportion 
of  a  military  life  is  spent  in  actual  combat,  so  it  is  a  very  small 
part  of  its  miseries  which  must  be  ascribed  to  this  source.  More 
are  consumed  by  the  rust  of  inactivity  than  by  the  edge  of  the 
sword.  Confined  to  a  scanty  or  unwholesome  diet,  exposed  in 
sickly  climates,  harassed  with  tiresome  marches  and  perpetual 
alarms,  their  life  is  a  continual  scene  of  hardships  and  dangers. 
They  grow  familiar  with  hunger,  cold  and  watchfulness.  Crowded 
into  hospitals  and  prisons,  contagion  spreads  among  tlieir  ranks, 
till  the  ravages  of  disease  exceed  those  of  the  enemy. 

We  have  hitherto  adverted  to  the  sufferings  only  of  tliose  who 
are  engaged  in  tlie  profession  of  arms,  without  taking  into  our 
account  the  situation  of  the  countries  which  aJe  tlie  scene  of  hos- 
tilities. How  dreadful  to  hold  every  thing' at  the  mercy  of  an 
enemy,  and  to  receive  life  itself  as  a  boon  dependent  on  the  sword. 
How  boundless  tlie  fears  which  such  a  situation  must  inspire, 
where  the  issues  of  life  and  death  are  determined  by  no  known 
laws,  principles  or  customs,  and  no  conjecture  can  be  formed  of 
our  destiny,  except  as  far  as  it  is  dimly  deciphered  in  characters 
of  blood,  in  the  dictates  of  revenge,  and  the  caprices  of  power. 
Conceive  but  for  a  moment  the  consternation  which  the  approach 
of  an  invading  army  would  impress  on  the  peaceful  villages  in  this 
neighborhood.  When  you  have  placed  yourselves  for  an  instant 
in  that  situation,  you  will  learn  to  sympathize  with  those  unhappy 
countries  which  have  sustained  the  ravages  of  arms.  But  how  is 
it  possible  to  give  you  an  idea  of  these  horrors  ?  Here  you  behold 
rich  harvests,  the  bounty  of  heaven  and  tlie  reward  of  industry, 
consumed  in  a  moment,  or  trampled  under  foot,  while  famine  and 
pestilence  follow  tlie  steps  of  desolation.  There  the  cottages  of 
peasants  given  up  to  the  flames ;  niotliers  expiring  through  fear, 
not  for  themselves  but  tlieir  infants ;  the  inhabitants  flying  with 
their  helpless  babes  in  all  directions,  miserable  fufritives  on  their 


179  VIEWS    OF    WAR  '  ^ 

native  soil !  In  another  part  you  witness  opulent  cities  taken  by 
storm ;  the  streets,  where  no  sounds  were  heard  but  those  of 
peaceful  industry,  filled  on  a  jBudden  with  slaughter  and  blood, 
resounding  with  the  cries  of  the  pursuing  and  tJie  pursued ;  the 
palaces  of  nobles  demolished,  the  houses  of  the  rich  pillaged,  the 
chastity  of  virgins  and  of  matrons  violated,  and  every  age,  sex  and 
rank  mingled  in  promiscuous  massacre  and  ruin. 

In  contemplating  the  influence  of  war  on  public  morals,  it  would 
be  unpardonable  not  to  remark  the  effects  it  never  fails  to  produce 
in  those  parts  of  the  world  which  are  its  immediate  seat.  The 
injury  which  the  morals  of  a  people  sustain  from  an  invading  army 
is  prodigious.  The  agitation  and  suspense  universally  prevalent 
are  incompatible  with  every  thing  which  requires  calm  thought,  or 
serious  reflection.  In  such  a  situation  is  it  any  wonder  the  duties 
of  piety  fall  into  neglect,  the  sanctuary  of  God  is  forsaken,  and 
the  gates  of  Zion  mourn  and  are  desolate  ?  Familiarized  to  the 
sight  of  rapine  and  slaughter,  the  people  must  acquire  a  hard- and 
unfeeling  character.  The  precarious  tenure  by  which  every  thing 
is  held  during  the  absence  of  laws  must  impair  confidence ;  the 
sudden  revolutions  of  fortune  must  be  infinitely  favorable  to  fraud 
and  injustice.  He  who  reflects  on  these  consequences  will  not 
think  it  too  much  to  affirm,  that  the  injury  the  virtue  of  a  people 
sustains  from  invasion,  is  greater  than  tJiat  which  afiects  their 
property  or  their  lives.  He  will  perceive  that  by  such  a  calamity 
the  seeds  of  order,  virtue  and  piety,  which  it  is  the  first  care  of 
education  to  implant  and  mature,  are  swept  away  as  by  a  hurri- 
cane. 

If  statesmen,  if  Christian  statesmen  at  least,  had  a  proper  feeling 
on  this  subject,  and  would  open  their  hearts  to  the  reflections 
which  such  scenes  must  inspire,  instead  of  rushing  eagerly  to 
arms,  would  they  not  hesitate  long,  would  they  not  try  every  ex- 
pedient, every  lenient  art  consistent  with  national  honor,  before 
they  ventured  on  this  desperate  remedy,  or  rather,  before  they 
plunged  into  this  gulf  of  horror  ? 

The  contests  of  nations  are  both  the  offspring  and  the  parent  of 
injustice.  The  word  of  God  ascribes  the  existence  of  war  to  the 
disorderly  passions  of  men.  Whence  come  wars  and  Jightings 
among  you  ?  saith  the  apostle  .Tames  ;  come  they  not  from  your 
lusts  that  war  in  your  members  ?  It  is  certain  two  nations  cannot 
engage  in  hostilities  but  one  party  must  be  guilty  of  injustice ; 
and  if  the  magnitude  of  crimes  is  to  be  estimated  by  a  regard  to 
their  consequences,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  an  action  of  equal 
guilt  with  the  wanton  violation  of  peace.  It  sinks  every  other 
crime  into  insignificance.  If  the  existence  of  war  always  implies 
injustice  in  one  at  least  of  the  parties  concerned,  it  is  also  the 
fruitful  parent  of  crimes. '  It  reverses,  unth  respect  to  its  objects,  all 
the  rules  ofmorolitjj.  It  is  nothing  less  than  a  temporary  repeal  of 
the  principles  of  virtue.  It  is  a  system  out  of  which  ahnost  all  the 
virtues  are  excluded,  and  in  which  nearly  all  the  vices  are  incor- 
porated.   Whatever  renders  human  nature  amiable  or  respectable, 


VIEWS    OF    WAR. 


180 


whatever  engages  love  or  confidence,  is  sacrificed  at  its  shrine. 
In  instructing  us  to  consider  a  portion  of  our  fellow-creatures  as 
the  proper  objects  of  enmity,  it  removes,  as  far  as  they  are  con- 
cerned, the  basis  of  all  society,  of  all  civilization  and  virtue ;  for 
the  basis  of  these  is  the  good-will  due  to  every  individual  of  the 
species,  as  being  a  part  of  ourselves.  From  this  principle  all  the 
rules  of  social  virtue  emanate.  Justice  and  humanity,  in  their 
utmost  extent,  are  nothing  more  than  the  practical  application  of 
this  great  law.  The  sword,  and  that  alone,  cuts  asunder  tlie  bond 
of  consanguinity  which  unites  man  to  man.  As  it  immediately 
aims  at  the  extinction  of  life,  it  is  next  to  impossible,  upon  the 
principle  that  every  thing  may  be  lawfully  done  to  him  whom  we 
nave  a  right  to  kill,  to  set  limits  to  military  license  ;  for  when 
men  pass  from  the  dominion  of  reason  to  that  of  force,  whatever 
restraints  are  attempted  to  be  laid  on  the  passions,  will  be  feeble 
and  fluctuating.  Though  we  must  applaud,  therefore,  the  attempts 
of  the  humane  Grotius  to  blend  maxims  of  humanity  with  military 
operations,  it  is  to  be  feared  they  will  never  coalesce,  since  the 
former  imply  the  subsistence  of  those  ties  which  the  latter  suppose 
to  be  dissolved.  Hence  the  morality  of  peaceful  times  is  directly 
opposite  to  the  maxims  of  war.  The  fundamental  rule  of  the  first 
is  to  do  good  ;  of  the  latter,  to  inflict  injuries.  The  former  coirl- 
mands  us  to  succor  the  oppressed ;  the  latter,  to  overwhelm  the 
defenceless.  The  former  teaches  men  to  love  their  enemies  ;  the 
latter,  to  make  themselves  terrible  even  to  strangers.  The  rules 
of  morality  will  not  sufier  us  to  promote  the  dearest  interest  by 
falsehood ;  the  maxims  of  war  applaud  it  when  employed  in  the 
destruction  of  others.  That  a  familiarity  with  such  maxims  must 
tend  to  harden  the  heart,  as  well  as  to  pervert  the  moral  senti- 
ments, is  too  obvious  to  need  illustration.  The  natural  conse- 
quence of  their  prevalence  is  an  unfeeling  and  unprincipled  ambi- 
tion, with  an  idolatry  of  talents,  and  a  contempt  of  virtue  ;  whence 
the  esteem  of  mankind  is  turned  from  tlie  humble,  the  beneficent, 
and  the  good,  to  men  who  are  qualified  by  a  genius  fertile  in  ex- 
pedients, a  courage  that  is  never  appalled,  and  a  heart  that  never 
pities,  to  become  the  destroyers  of  the  earth.  While  the  philan- 
thropist is  devising  means  to  mitigate  the  evils  and  augment  tlie 
happiness  of  the  world,  a  fellow-worker  together  wiUi  God  in 
exploring  and  giving  efiect  to  the  benevolent  tendencies  of  nature, 
the  warrior  is  revolving,  in  the  gloomy  recesses  of  his  capacious 
mind,  plans  of  future  devastation  and  ruin.  Prisons  crowded  with 
captives,  cities  emptied  of  their  inhabitants,  fields  desolate  and 
waste,  are  among  his  proudest  trophies.  The  fabric  of  his  fame 
is  cemented  with  tears  and  blood ;  and  if  his  name  is  wafted  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth,  it  is  in  the  shrill  cry  of  suffering  humanity ; 
in  the  curses  and  imprecations  of  those  whom  his  sword  has  re- 
duced to  despair. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXUI. 

THE 

EARLY  CHRISTIANS   ON   WAR. 

BY   THOMAS    CLABKSON,   THE    PHILANTHBOPIST.* 

The  Bible,  rather  tiian  any  human  authority,  should  be  our 
guide ;  but,  since  the  early  Christians  learned  its  meaning  from 
the  Apostles  themselves,  or  their  immediate  successors,  we  natu- 
rally wish  to  ascertain  how  they  regarded  the  custom  of  war,  and 
shall  endeavor  to  prove,  that  so  long  as  the  lamp  of  Christianity 
burnt  pure  and  bright,  Christians  held  it  unlawful  to  bear  arms,  and 
actually  abstained  from  the  use  of  them  at  the  hazard  of  their  lives ; 
nor  was  it  till  Christianity  became  corrupted,  that  its  followers  be- 
came soldiers. 

I.  The  opinions  of  the  first  Christian  writers  after  the  Apostles 
relative  to  war,  were  alike  for  nearly  three  hundred  years,  if  not 
longer.  Justin  Martyr,  one  of  the  earliest  in  the  second  cen- 
tury, considers  war  as  unlawful,  and  makes  the  devil  its  author. 
Tatian,  the  disciple  of  Justin,  speaks  in  the  same  terms  on  the 
subject ;  and  Clemens,  of  Alexandria,  a  contemporary  of  the  latter, 
is  equally  decisive  against  the  lawfulness  of  war. 

Tertullian,  the  next  in  order  of  time,  strongly  condemns  the 
practice  of  bearing  arms.  In  his  Worship  of  Idols,  he  says, 
"  though  the  soldiers  came  to  John,  and  received  a  certain  form  to 
be  observed,  and  though  the  centurion  believed,  yet  Jesus  Christ, 
by  disarming  Peter,  disarmed  every  soldier  afterward  ;  for  custom 
never  sanctions  an  unlawful  act"  In  his  Soldier^s  Garland,  he  says, 
"  can  a  soldier's  life  be  lawful,  when  Christ  has  pronounced,  that 
he  who  lives  by  the  sword,  shall  perish  by  the  sword  ?  Can  one 
who  professes  the  peaceable  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  be  a  soldier, 
when  it  is  his  duty  not  so  much  as  to  go  to  law  ?  And  shall  he 
who  is  not  to  revenge  his  own  wrongs,  be  instrumental  in  bringing 
others  into  chains,  imprisonment,  torment,  death  ?  " — "  In  all  this 
conspiracy  of  evils  against  us,"  he  asks,  in  his  Apology,  "  what 
one  evil  have  you  observed  to  have  been  returned  by  Christians  ? 
We  could  in  a  night's  time  have  made  ourselves  ample  satisfac- 
tion, had  we  not  thought  it  unlawful  to  repay  one  injury  with  an- 
other ;  but  God  forbid,  that  any  of  this  divine  sect  should  seek 
revenge.  If  we  would  not  revenge  ourselves  in  the  dark,  but 
chose  to  engage  you  in  the  open  day,  do  you  think  we  could  want 
forces  ?  We  are  but  of  yesterday,  and  by  to-day  we  overspread 
your  empire.  Your  cities,  your  islands,  your  forts,  towns,  assem- 
blies, and  very  camps,  wards,  companies,  palaces,  senate,  forum, 
all  swarm  with  Christians.    What  war  can  we  now  be  unprepared 

*  This  tract,  though  abridged,  retains  all  the  original  facts  and  arguments, 
with  a  few  additions. — Am  Ed. 
P.  T.       NO.  XXIII. 


%  THE   KAmLT   CHWSTIANS   ON   WAR.  182 

ibr,£d  not  oarrelipoD  require  us  tio  be  kiUed ralher than  tokiH?^ 
The  fka.  of  CknstJsuiB  beu^  in  forts  and  cunps,  is  no  proof  that 
4m^  neve  there  is  soUSeis;  and  tbe  svi^ioration  is  forbidden  by 
^he  tcnwal  tenor  of  Tertollian^  langoa^  a^nst  war  as  unlawful 
ftr  Onsdasis.  If  they  uxre  soUHers,  it  only  proves,  what  is  truo. 
tint  8one  QoisliMB,  even  before  tbe  death  of  Tertullian,  entered 
tiK  «ni^,  or  more  nralMSiIy,  Tenoained  in  it  after  their  conversion. 
CnwUK,  in  his  EpisHf  fo  Donatts,  speaks  thus,  **  When  then 
i  upon  thy  condition,  thy  thong-hts  will  rise  in  transpor.<  i 
and  praise  to  God  for*  havinor  made  thy  escape  from  iJie 
I  of  the  world.  The  things  thou  wilt  principally  obserA  e 
te  tiae  Inghways  beset  with  robbers,  the  seas  with  pirates  ;  en- 
marches,  and  all  the  terrible  forms  of  war  and  blood- 
WIma  a  sing-le  war  is  committjed,  it  shall  be  deemed  per- 
kipB  m  crime;  bat  mA  crime  shall  commence  a  virtue,  when  com- 
■iillind  onder  &e  ehdler  of  pobfic  anthority ;  so  that  punishment 
is  not  lafeed  by  fte  measure  of  gmlx ;  hut  toe  more  enormous  the 
ene  of  the  wkfcednesa  is,  so  much  tbe  greater  is  the  chance  of 

LCTJUTOirs,  who  lived  some  time  aAer  Cyprian,  says,  "  it  can 
'  he  Ipwftd  for  a  rigbteoins  inan  to  2T>  to  war.""  To  these 
wm^kt  he  added  Archelafs,  Ambrose,  Chrtsostom,  Jerome, 
nnd  Cnn^  all  of  whom  were  of  opinion,  that  it  is  unlawful  for 
Qirif^Tis  tx>  ^igaoe  in  war. 


n.  Wi&  respect  to  lie  i«ACTicE^lheearlvCftrulMiis,  there  is 
»^irefl  aadMatioAed  instance  vspcm  record  of  their  entering  into 
lor  nearly  the  two  first  centuries,  but  they  declined  the 
iion  as  one  in  which  it  was  not  lawful  for  them  to 


of  evidence  on  this  point  may  be  found  in 
ftds,  Teftchino-  from  the  year  170  to  195.  Cassius 
the  Emperor  Vems,  and  was  slain  soon  after. 
one  part  of  the  world,  and  Pcscennius  Niger  in 
reh^led  Rgainst  the  Emperor  Sleverus,  and  both  were 
Now,  siB^ncion  fell,  as  it  always  did  in  those  times,  if  any 
wrtmg,  npon  the  Christians  ;  but  Tertfixiai^  tells  us 
that  this  fiOEpicion  wrs  totally  groundless.  "  You  defamed  us,"^ 
m^s  he,  •by  charging  us  with  having  bc^n  guilty  of  treason  to 
1 ;  for  not  a  Christian  could  be  found  in  any  of  the 
whether  commanded  by  Cassius,  Albinus,  or  Niger.*^ 
important  facts :  for  tbe  armies  in  question  were  very 
Cassius  was  master  of  all  Syria  with  its  four  Legions : 
i^of  the  Asiatic  and  Egyptian  Legions,  and  Albinus,  of  those 
"^Imn;  which  Legions  together  contained  between  a  third 
hnlf  cf  the  wtiiiiii^  Legions  of  Rome ;  and  the  circura- 
w«B  to  be  found  in  them,  is  tbe  more  re- 
■e,  because,  according  to  the  same  TERxrixiAy,  Chris- 
hnd  ttm  npnad  over  al 


_    .   ^      over  almost  the  whole  of  the  known  world. 

%  A  aeooad  lycMH  of  evidence  may  be  collected  from  expres- 


183  THE    EARLY    CHSISTIAXS    ON  WAR.  3 


skms  and  declaratkMis  in  certain  anthms  cS  those  times.  Justqi 
Masttk  and  TATiAir  wtdot  duimdtiam»  hebeet»  mUim  mmd  ChiB- 
tiamt;  and  Cixmeks,  of  Akzandiia,  gives  the  Cfanstians,  who 
were  contempcM-aiy  with  him,  the  appellation  o€  At  PeaeeMt, 
thus  disHngviskxng  thtmjrom  othen  ofAe  ttorid;  and  he  says  ez- 
]Kessly,  tht  PeactabU  never  Mse  sword  or  bow,  meaning  bj  these 
the  iokniments  of  war. 

3.  A  third  species  of  evidence  may  be  foond  in  the  b^ie^ 
which  the  writers  of  these  times  had,  }faat  the  praphecj  of  Isaah, 
tibat  men  should  torn  their  swords  into  ploogh-slnfes,  and  tiieir 
speazs  into  pnming-hocAa,  was  then  in  the  act  of  oonofletiaB. 
laEicjEus,  about  the  year  180,  affinns  that  this  ftmans  propheqr 
had  been  completed  in  his  time ;  ^  for  the  C3insdan^*  sajs  he, 
<*have  changed  their  swnds  and  lances  into  instraments  of  peaoe^ 
and  tkof  know  not  how  to  /ghLP  Justin  MAaTra,  aHMwiymiy 
with  lasjfiEUS,  asserts  the  same  thing.  *^  That  the  pn^riiecy,* 
says  he,  **  is  fblfflled,  yoa  have  good  leastm  to  betieve ;  for  we 
who  m  times  past  kSled  one  ano&er,  do  not  now  JgU  with  owr  ene- 
mies" And  here  it  is  observable,  that  the  Grec^  word  j^gM  meana 
tojightasin  war;  and  the  Greek  woid  oitaqf  means  an  caeniy  of 
the  State.  Tertuixiazc,  who  lived  after  both,  qwaks  in  these 
rema^able  wor^  <^Deny  that  these  (meaning  Ihe  tnnmig^  of 
swcnids  into  {doogfa-shares)  are  the  things  pn^thesied  c^  nftai  ysm 
see  what  jfou  «ee,  or  that  they  are  the  things  MBDedj  when  yam 
read  wehal  you  read;  hot  if  yoa  deny  neither  o£  these  iMMiiliiMW, 
then  joa  most  confess  that  the  prophecy  has  been  a<4'4limJiiihul, 
as  far  as  the  practice  of  every  vsdaoidmtd  is  eameemed,  to  tdhsn  d  at 
oj^pHeahUJ*  We  might  go  from  Tiam-UAjr  eroi  as  far  as  Thb> 
ODORET,  if  it  were  necessary,  to  show  that  the  pn^ihecj  in  ques- 
tion was  considered  as  then  in  the  act  of  compktion. 

4.  The  fourth  and  last  species  of  evidence  may  be  foond  in  tibe 
charges  of  Cixsus,  and  the  reply  oi  Origs^  Ceusvs,  at  the 
end  of  the  secooA  centnry,  attacked  the  Chnstian  ReUgioo,  mask 
made  it  one  of  his   charges,  that  Cknstiams  r^matd  to  hear 


arms  for  the  Emperor,  even  in  cases  of  ^uc«.«>»j, 
woiud  ha      " 


their  services  womd  have  been  accepted.    He  told 

that  if  the  rest  of  the  £mi«e  woe  of  their  (^linicHi,  it  woold  soca 

be  ovemm  by  the  barbajriansL      Now,  Cei^us  dared  not  haie 

biooght  this  charge,  if  the  fact  had  not  been  pablicty  known  ;  hot 

let  ns  see  whether  it  was  denied  by  those  who  tfaoogfat  " 

demanded  a  reply.     Orige^c,  in  the  third  cenbny,  answ 

but,  in  his  answer,  he  cuimits  the  facts  as  stated  hy  Celsma,  Aof  tte 

CTtristians  womld  not  hear  aarass,  and  jmgti/ka  Aem  eat  Ow 

that  war  is  wahmfid^^  OariaHama. 

As  the  eariy  Christians  woold  not  enter  tiae 
they  became  converted  there,  they  retinqpndied 
We  find  frcxn  Terttixian,  that  many  in  his 
their  conrtrsion  to  Christiamtyf  qmUed  At  auiibuy  aeraiet.  We 
are  told,  also,  by  Archei^us,  278,  tint  many  Ronan  soldieis  who 
had  embraced  Christiani!^  after  liAving  witnessed  the  piety  9mk 


4  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  184 

generosity  of  Marcellus,  immediately  forsook  the  profession  of  arms. 
We  are  tx)ld,  also,  by  Eusebius,  that  about  the  same  time  numbers 
laid  aside  a  military  life,  and  became  private  persons  ratfier  than  ab- 
jure their  religion. 

Even  Gibbon  bears  his  sneering  testimony  to  the  pacific  scru- 
ples of  the  early  Christians.  "  The  defence  of  our  persons  and 
property,  they  knew  not  how  to  reconcile  with  tlie  patient  doctrine 
which  enjoined  an  unlimited  forgiveness  of  past  injuries ;  nor  could 
their  humane  ignorance  be  convinced,  that  it  was  lawful,  on  any 
occasion,  to  shed  tlie  blood  of  our  fellow-creatures  by  the  sword 
either  of  justice  or  of  war,  though  their  criminal  or  hostile  at- 
tempts should  threaten  the  peace  or  safety  of  the  whole  com- 
munity. The  Christians  felt  and  confessed,  that  such  institutions 
might  be  necessary  for  the  present  system  of  the  world,  and  they 
cheerfully  submitted  to  the  authority  of  their  pagan  governors ; 
but,  while  they  inculcated  the  maxims  of  passive  obedience," — 
svhmissionj  a  very  different  thing, — "  they  refused  to  take  any  ac- 
tive part  in  the  civil  administration  or  military  defence  of  the  em- 
pire." 

Here  then  are  facts  to  show,  that  for  nearly  the  first  two  centu- 
ries, no  Christians  would  either  take  upon  themselves,  or  con- 
tinue the  profession  of  soldiers.  But  it  may  be  said,  tliat  the  mil- 
itary oath,  taken  in  the  Roman  armies,  and  repeated  annually,  was 
full  of  idolatry ;  that  the  Roman  standards  were  9.II  considered 
as  gods,  and  had  divine  honors  paid  them  by  the  soldiery  ;  and 
that  images  of  the  Emperors  were  to  be  worshipped  in  the 
same  manner.  Now,  these  impious  customs  were  interwoven  with 
the  military  service ;  nor  was  any  soldier  exempted  from  them. 
It  will  be  urged,  tlien,  that  no  Christian  could  submit  to  such  ser- 
vices. Indeed,  when  a  person  was  suspected  of  being  a  Christian 
in  those  times,  he  was  instantly  taken  to  the  altar  to  sacrifice,  it 
being  notorious  that,  if  he  were  a  Christian,  he  would  not  sacrifice, 
though  the  loss  of  his  life  was  the  certain  consequence  of  his  re- 
fiisal. 

An  objector  may  say,  that  these  idolatrous  tests  and  customs 
operated  as  the  great  cause,  why  Christians  refused  to  enter  the 
army,  or  why  they  left  it  when  converted.  True ;  these  tests  did 
operate  as  one  cause.  So  Tertulltan  states,  and  makes  this  one 
of  his  argument.s  against  the  lawfulness  of  serving  in  the  army. 
He  says,  "  the  military  oath  and  the  baptismal  vow  are  inconsis- 
tent with  each  other,  the  one  being  the  sign  of  Christ,  the  other 
of  the  Devil ;"  and  he  calls  the  military  standard  "  the  Rival,  or 
Enemy  of  Christ"  All  history  confirms  the  fact  Take  the  fol- 
lowing instance.  Marinus,  according  to  Eusebius,  was  a  man  of 
family  and  fortune,  and  an  officer  in  a  legion  which  in'  SCO  was 
stationed  at  Csesarea,  Palestine.  One  of  the  centurion's  rods  hap- 
pened to  become  vacant  in  this  legion,  and  Marinus  was  appointed 
to  it ;  but  just  at  this  moment  anotlier,  next  in  rank,  accused  him 
before  the  tribunal  of  being  a  Christian,  stating,  "  that  the  laws 
did  not  allow  a  Christian  who  refused  to  sacrifice  to  the  Emperors, 


185  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  € 

to  hold  any  dignity  in  the  army."  AchsBUS,  the  judge,  asked  Ma- 
rinus  if  it  was  true  tliat  he  had  become  a  Christian  ?  He  acknow- 
ledged it ;  and  three  hours  were  allowed  him  to  consider  whether 
he  would  sacrifice  or  die.  When  the  time  expired,  he  chose  the 
latter.  The  history  of  those  times  is  full  of  such  instances  ;  and 
so  desirous  were  the  early  Christians  of  keeping  clear  of  idolatry 
in  every  shape,  that  they  avoided  every  custom  which  appeared  in 
the  least  degree  connected  with  it.  Thus  when  a  largess  was 
given  in  honor  of  the  Emperors,  L.  Septimus  Severus  and  his  son, 
a  solitary  soldier,  as  we  learn  from  Tertullian,  carried  the  gar- 
land given  him  on  that  occasion,  in  his  hand,  while  the  rest  wore 
it  on  their  heads.  The  Church  then  held  it  unlawful  to  wear  the 
garland,  because  it  belonged  to  the  dress  of  the  heathen  priests, 
when  sacrificing  to  tlieir  gods.  On  being  interrogated  by  his 
commander  why  he  refused  wearing  it,  he  replied,  that  he  had 
become  a  Christian.  He  was  immediately  punished  before  the 
army,  and  sent  into  prison.  But,  while  such  idolatrous  services 
hindered  Christians  from  entering,  and  compelled  them  to  leave 
the  army,  nothing  is  more  true,  than  that  the  belief  of  its  being 
unlawful  for  Christians  to  fight,  occasioned  an  equal  abhorrence 
of  military  life. 

There  were  three  notions  upon  which  this  belief  was  grounded. 
1.  That  it  was  their  duty  to  love  their  enemies.  The  world  was  then 
full  of  divisions  and  bitterness.  The  Jews  looked  upon  the  Gen- 
tiles as  dogs  and  outcasts,  so  as  not  even  to  tell  them  their  road 
when  asked,  or  give  them  a  draught  of  water ;  and  the  Gentiles, 
in  turn,  considered  tlie  Jews  as  the  enemies  of  all  nations,  and 
haters  of  mankind.  Nations,  too,  were  set  against  each  other  on 
account  of  former  and  existing  wars.  Justin  Martyr  says,  "  we 
who  once  hated  each  other,  and  delighted  in  mutual  quarrels  and 
slaughter,  and,  according  to  custom,  refused  to  sit  at  the  same  fire 
with  those  who  were  not  of  our  own  tribe  and  party,  now  since  the 
appearance  of  Christ  in  the  M^orld,  live  familiarly  with  them,  pray 
for  our  enemies,  and  endeavor  to  persuade  them  who  hate  us  un- 
justly, to  order  their  lives  according  to  the  excellent  precepts  of 
Christ."  Such  was  the  practice  of  tie  early  Christians,  as  founded 
on  this  tenet.  Tertullian  says,  "  it  was  their  peculiar  character 
to  love  their  enemies;"  and  Athenagoras,  Julian  and  Lactan- 
Tius,  make  "  this  their  character  to  have  been  a  proof  of  the  di- 
vinity of  their  religion."  It  was  impossible  for  them,  while  em- 
bracing this  heavenly  tenet,  even  had  the  idolatrous  services  been 
dispensed  with,  to  appear  in  the  shape  of  warriors. 

2.  That  it  became  them  as  Christians,  to  abstain  from  all  man- 
ner of  violence,  and  become  distinguishable  as  the  followers  of 
peace.  "  The  great  King  of  Heaven,"  says  Isidore  of  Pelusium, 
"  came  down  from  above  to  deliver  rules  for  an  heavenly  conduct, 
which  he  has  placed  in  a  certain  mode  of  contending  quite  contrary 
to  that  in  the  Olympic  Games.  There,  he  that  fights,  and  gets  the 
better,  receives  the  Crown ;  here,  he  that  is  struck,  and  bears  it 
meekly,  has  the  honor  and  applause.    There,  he  that  returns  blow 


II  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  186 

for  blow ;  here,  he  that  turns  the  other  cheek,  is  celebrated  in  the 
theatre  of  Angels ;  for  the  victory  is  measured  not  by  revenge, 
but  by  a  wise  and  generous  patience.  This  is  the  new  law  of 
Crowns,  the  new  way  of  contending  for  the  mastery."  We  find, 
accordingly,  from  Athenagoras  and  other  early  writers,  that  the 
Christians  of  their  time  abstained,  when  they  were  struck,  from 
striking  again,  and  carried  their  principles  so  far  as  even  to  refuse 
going  to  law  with  those  Avho  injured  them.  It  was  impossible  for 
them,  while  interpreting  the  Scriptures  in  this  manner,  "  to  have 
used  the  sword  or  the  bow  in  war." 

3.  Thai  the.  slmi^hter  of  men  in  war  was  neither  more  nor  less  than 
direct  murder.  They  had  such  an  abhorrence  of  murder,  and  of 
being  thought  to  be  implicated  at  all  in  so  atrocious  a  crime,  that 
they  refused  to  be  present  where  the  life  of  a  fellow-creature  was 
taken  away,  whatever  was  the  occasion.  Athenagoras,  Tatian, 
Theophilus  Antiochenus,  and  Minutius  Felix,  all  agree  in 
asserting  this. 

On  these  three  grounds,  independently  of  idolatrous  practices  in 
the  army,  the  belief  of  the  unlawfulness  of  war  appears  to  have 
been  universal  among  Christians  of  those  times.  Every  Christian 
writer  of  the  second  century,  who  notices  the  subject,  makes  it  un- 
lawful for  Christians  to  bear  arms ;  and,  as  this  belief  seems  to 
have  been  universal,  so  it  operated  as  an  impediment  to  a  military 
life,  quite  as  much  as  the  idolatry  connected  with  it,  of  which  the 
following  instances  may  suffice  for  illustration : 

Let  us  first  take  a  case  on  this  principle  alone.  Maximilian 
having  been  brought  before  the  tribunal  to  be  enrolled  as  a  sol- 
dier, Dion,  the  Proconsul,  asked  him  Iris  name.  Maximilian, 
turning  to  him,  replied,  "  why  wouldst  thou  know  my  name  ?  / 
am  a  Christian,  and  cannot  Jight.^^  Then  Dion  ordered  him  to  be 
enrolled,  and  bade  tlie  officer  mark  him  ;  but  Maximilian  refused 
to  be  marked,  still  asserting  that  he  was  a  Christian ;  upon  Avhich 
Dion  instantly  replied,  "  bear  arms,  or  thou  shalt  die."  To  this 
Maximilian  answered,  "I  cannot  fight,  if  I  die ;  I  am  not  a  soldier 
of  this  world,  but  a  soldier  of  God."  Dion  then  said,  "  who  has 
persuaded  thee  to  behave  thus  ? "  Maximilian  answered,  "  my 
own  mind,  and  he  who  called  me."  Dion  then  spoke  to  his  father, 
and  bade  him  persuade  his  son ;  but  his  father  observed,  that  his 
son  knew  his  own  mind,  and  what  it  was  best  for  him  to  do.  After 
this  had  passed,  Dion  addressed  Maximilian  again  in  these  words, 
"  take  thy  arms,  and  receive  the  mark."  "  I  can  receive,"  says 
Maximilian,  "  no  such  mark.  I  have  already  the  mark  of  Christ :" 
upon  which  Dion  said,  "  I  will  send  thee  quickly  to  thy  Christ" 
"  Thou  mayst  do  so,"  says  Maximilian ;  "  but  the  glory  will  be 
mine."  Dion  then  bade  the  officer  mark  him;  but  Maximilian 
still  persisted  in  refusing,  and  spoke  thus,  "  I  cannot  receive  the 
mark  of  this  world ;  and,  if  thou  shouldst  give  me  the  mark,  I  will 
destroy  it.  It  will  avail  nothing.  I  am  a  Christian  ;  and  it  is  not 
lawful  for  me  to  wear  such  a  mark  about  my  neck,  when  I  have 
received  the  saving  mark  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 


187  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  7 

living  God,  whom  thou  knowest  not,  who  died  to  give  us  life. 
Him  all  we  Christians  obey,  and  follow,  as  the  Restorer  of  our 
life,  and  the  Author  of  our  salvation."  Dion  instantly  replied, 
"  take  thy  arms,  and  receive  the  mark,  or  thou  shalt  suffer  a  miser- 
able death."  "  But  I  shall  not  perish,"  says  Maximihan ;  "  my 
name  is  already  enrolled  with  Christ ; — /  cannot  Jighi.^^  Dion  said, 
"  consider  then  thy  youth,  and  bear  arms.  The  profession  of  arms 
becomes  a  young  man."  Maximilian  replied,  "  my  arms  are  with 
the.  Lord.  I  cannot  fghi  for  any  earthly  consideration.  I  am  now 
a  Christian.''^  The  Proconsul  continued,  "  among  the  life-guards 
of  our  masters,  Dioclesian  and  Maximinian,  and  Constantius  and 
Maximus,  there  are  Christian  soldiers,  and  they  fight."  Maximil- 
ian answered,  "they  know  best  what  is  expedient  for  them:  but  I 
am  a  Christian,  and  it  is  unlaivful  to  do  evil.^^  Dion  said,  "  take 
thy  arms  ;  despise  not  the  profession  of  a  soldier,  lest  thou  perish 
miserably."  "  But  I  shall  not  perish,"  says  Maximilian  ;  "  and,  if  I 
should  leave  this  world,  my  soul  will  live  with  Christ  the  Lord." 
Dion  then  ordered  his  name  to  be  struck  from  the  roll,  and  pro- 
ceeded, "  because  out  of  tliy  rebellious  spirit,  thou  hast  refused  to 
bear  arms,  thou  shalt  be  punished  according  to  thy  deserts,  for  an 
example  to  others."  Then  he  delivered  the  following  sentence : 
"  Maximilian  !  because  thou  hast,  Avith  a  rebellious  spirit,  refused 
to  bear  arms,  thou  art  to  die  by  the  sword."  Maximilian  replied, 
"  thanks  be  to  God." 

He  was  little  more  than  twenty  years  old ;  and,  when  he  was 
led  to  the  place  of  execution,  he  spoke  thus,  "  my  dear  brethren, 
endeavor  with  all  your  might,  tliat  it  may  be  your  portion  to  see 
the  Lord,  and  that  he  may  give  you  such  a  Crown."  Then,  with 
a  pleasant  countenance,  he  said  to  his  father,  "  give  the  execu- 
tioner the  soldier's  coat  thou  hast  gotten  for  me  ;  and,  when  I  shall 
receive  thee  in  the  company  of  the  blessed  martyrs,  we  may  re- 
joice togetlier  with  the  Lord."  After  this  ho  suffered.  His 
mother,  Pompeiana,  obtained  his  body  from  the  judge,  and  con- 
veyed it  to  Cartilage,  and  buried  it  near  the  place  where  the  body 
of  Cyprian  the  martyr  lay.  Thirteen  days  after  this  his  mother 
Avas  buried  in  the  same  place ;  and  Victor,  his  father,  returned  to 
his  habitation,  rejoicing  and  praising  God,  that  he  had  sent  before 
such  a  gift  to  the  Lord,  himself  expecting  to  follow  after. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  a  mixed  case,  yet  still  avoAving  the  same 
principle.  Marcellus  Avas  a  centurion  in  the  Legion  called  Tra- 
jana.  At  a  festival,  given  in  honor  of  the  birth-day  of  Galeriiis, 
he  threw  doAvn  his  military  belt  at  the  head  of  the  Legion,  and 
declared  with  a  loud  voice,  that  he  would  no  longer  serve  in  the 
army,  because  he  had  become  a  Christian.  "  I  hold  in  detestation," 
says  he,  addressing  the  soldiers,  "the  Avorship  of  your  gods  ;  gods, 
which  are  made  of  Avood  and  stone  ;  gods,  Avhich  are  deaf  and 
dumb."  So  far,  Marcellus  seems  to  have  been  influenced  by  the 
idolatry  of  the  military  service.  But  let  us  hear  him  further :  "  It 
is  not  lawful,"  says  he,  "for  a  Christian  to  bear  arms  for  any 
earthly  consideration."    After  a  delay  of  more  than  three  months 


8  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  188 

in  prison,  allowed  for  the  purpose  of  sparing  him,  he  was  brought 
before  the  Prefect,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  correcting  his  former 
expressions ;  but,  as  he  persisted  in  the  same  sentiments,  he  suf- 
fered. It  is  remarkable  tliat,  almost  immediately  after  his  execu- 
tion, Cassian,  tlie  notary  to  the  same  Legion,  refused  to  serve  any 
longer,  publicly  throwing  his  pen  and  accompt-book  on  the  ground, 
and  declaring,  that  the  sentence  of  Marcellus  was  unjust.  When 
taken  up  by  order  of  Aurelianus  Agricolanus,  he  is  described  in 
the  record  preserved  by  Ruinart,  to  have  avowed  the  same  senti- 
ments as  Marcellus,  and  like  him  to  have  suffered  death. 

Here  is  another  case  on  the  same  principle.  Martin,  of  whom 
Sulpicius  Severus  says  so  much,  had  been  bred  to  the  profession 
of  arms  ;  but  on  his  conversion  to  Christianity,  he  declined  it  In 
his  answer  to  Julian  the  Apostate  for  his  conduct  on  tliis  occasion,/ 
we  find  him  using  these  words,  "  /  awi  a  Christian,  and  therefore  I 
cannot  Jighty 

Let  us  quote  the  instance  of  Tarachus,  another  military  man 
and  martyr,  and  let  tliis  serve  for  all.  He  underwent  his  exami- 
nation at  Tarsus  in  Cilicia,  Numerianus  Maximus  sat  as  Presi- 
dent. "  What  is  your  name  ? "  says  Maximus.  "  I  am  called 
Tarachus,"  says  the  prisoner,  "  by  my  father ;  but  my  military 
name  is  Victor."  "  And  what  is  your  condition  ?"  "  I  have  led  a 
military  life,  and  am  a  Roman.  I  was  born  at  Claudiopolis,  a  city 
of  Isauria,  and,  because  I  am  a  Christian,  I  have  abandoned  my  pro- 
fession of  a  soldier.^'' 

Such  was  tlie  answer  usually  given  on  such  occasions, 
without  arty  specification  as  to  which  of  the  two  principles 
had  influenced  the  conduct  of  those  M'ho  were  brought  before 
them  ;  and,  whenever  we  hear  of  such  general  apology  or  answer, 
we  cannot  doubt  that  tliey  who  made  it,  were  actuated  by  both. 
TJve  unlaafulness  offsrhting  was  as  much  a  principle  of  religion 
in  the  early  times  of  Christianity,  as  the  refusal  of  sacrifce  to  the 
heathen  gods ;  and  tliey  operated  equally  to  prevent  men  from 
entering  the  army,  and  to  drive  them  out  of  it  on  tlieir  conversion. 
Indeed,  these  principles  always  went  together,  where  the  profes- 
sion of  arms  presented  itself  as  an  occupation  for  a  Christian.  He 
who  refused  the  profession  on  account  of  its  idolatry,  would  have 
refused  it  on  account  of  the  unlawfulness  of  fighting ;  and  he  who 
refused  it  on  account  of  the  guilt  of  fighting,  would  have  refused 
it  on  account  of  its  idolatrous  services.  Both  alike  were  impedi- 
ments to  a  military  life  ;  and,  though  the  noble  martyrs  we  have 
mentioned,  grounded  their  apology  for  declining  military  service, 
some  on  its  idolatry,  and  others  on  the  unlawfulness  of  fighting, 
yet  their  common  plea  was,  that  having  become  Christians,  they 
could  be  no  longer  soldiers. 

m.  We  proceed  now  to  the  proof  of  our  third  point ;  that  not 
iUl  Christianit}!  became  corrupted,  did  its  followers  become  soldiers. 
In  the  two  first  centuries,  when  Christianity  was  the  purest,  there 
are  no  Christian  soldiers  upon  record  ;  in  the  third  century,  when 


189  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  9^ 

it  became  less  pure,  there  is  frequent  mention  of  such  soldiers ; 
but  in  the  fourth,  when  its  corruption  was  fixed,  Christians  entered 
generally  upon  the  profession  of  arms  with  as  little  hesitation  as 
they  entered  upon  any  other  occupation  of  life. 

The  ejfcellent  character  of  the  first  Christians  is  well  known  ; 
but  they  sadly  degenerated  even  in  the  third  century.  We  have 
already  stated  that  a  Christian  soldier  was  punished  for  refusing 
to  wear  a  garland,  like  the  rest  of  his  comrades,  on  a  public  occa- 
sion. This  man  had  been  converted  while  in  the  army,  and  ob- 
jected to  the  ceremony  on  that  accftunt.  Now,  Tertullian  tells 
us,  that  this  soldier  was  blamed  for  his  unseasonable  zeal,  as  it 
was  called,  by  some  of  the  Christians  at  that  time,  though  all 
Christians  before  considered  the  wearing  of  such  a  garland  as 
unlawful  and  profane.  This  blame  or  censure  is  the  first  expres- 
sion upon  record,  from  which  we  may  date  the  beginning  of  con- 
formity on  the  part  of  the  early  Christians  with  the  opinions  of  the 
world.  There  were  then,  as  Tertullian  confesses,  certain 
Christian  casuists,  who  had  so  far  degenerated  as  to  think  that 
many  of  the  heathen  customs  might  be  complied  with,  though 
strictly  forbidden  by  the  Church  ;  in  fact,  that  they  might  go  any 
length,  without  the  just  imputation  of  idolatry,  provided  they  did  not 
sacrifice  to  the  pagan  gods,  or  become  heathen  priests.  Indeed, 
his  whole  book  on  the  Worship  of  Idols,  is  a  continued  satire  on 
the  occasional  conformity  of  his  brethren  even  in  the  third  cen- 
tury ;  in  other  words,  of  an  occasional  mercenary  compliance  with 
the  pagan  worship.  At  this  time  there  is  no  question  but  the 
Christian  discipline  began  to  relax.  To  the  ease  which  the  Chris- 
tians enjoyed  from  the  death  of  Antoninus  to  the  tenth  year  of 
Severus,  is  to  be  ascribed  the  corruption  that  ensued.  This  cor- 
ruption we  find  to  have  spread  rapidly.  Tertullian  lived  long 
enough  to  see  that  several  bearing  the  name  of  Christians,  but 
who  were  no  doubt  the  disciples  of  the  casuists  just  mentioned, 
had  entered  the  Roman  annies.  This  fact  we  find  in  his  Apology, 
one  of  his  latest  works  ;  for  when  the  pagans  charged  the  Chris- 
tians, as  they  had  pretty  constantly  done,  with  being  useless  to 
the  commonwealth,  he  answers  the  accusation  in  part  by  saying, 
that  there  were  then  Christians  in  tlie  military  service.  "  We 
serve,"  says  he,  "  with  you  and  your  armies ;"  a  very  different 
answer  this,  to  that  which  Origen  gave  Celsus  on  a  similar  charge 
respecting  what  had  been  tlie  state  of  things  in  the  second  cen- 
tury, as  appears  in  a  former  page !  But  the  corruption  did  not  stop 
here.  The  same  Tertullian  was  enabled  to  furnish  us  with  the 
extraordinary  instance  of  manufacturers  of  idols  being  admitted 
into  the  ecclesiastical  order!  Many  corruptions  are  also  noticed  in 
this  century  by  other  writers.  Cyprian  complained  of  them  in 
the  middle,  and  Eusebius  at  the  end  of  it :  and  both  attributed 
them  to  the  ease  and  security  which  the  Christians  had  enjoyed. 
The  latter  gives  us  a  melancholy  account  of  their  change.  They 
had  begun  to  live  in  fine  houses,  and  to  indulge  in  luxuries ;  but, 
above  all,  to  be  envious  and  quarrelsome,  to  dissemble,  and  cheat,  and 


10  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  190 

falsify  their  loord,  so  that  they  had  lost  the  character  w  hich  Pliny, 
an  adversary  to  their  religion,  had  been  obliged  to  give  of  tlieni, 
and  which  they  had  retained  for  more  than  a  century  afterwards. 

That  there  were  Christian  soldiers  in  this  more  corrupt  century 
of  the  Church,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  ;  for  such  frequent  mention 
is  made  of  them  in  the  histories  of  this  period,  that  there  were  in 
the  armies  either  men  who  called  themselves  Christians,  or  men 
who  had  that  name  given  them  by  others.  That  tliey  were  rtal 
Christians,  is  anotlier  question.  They  were  probably  such  Chris- 
tians as  the  casuists  of  Tertullian,  or  such  as  Dion  mentioned 
to  have  been  among  the  life-guards  of  Dioclesian  and  Maximil- 
ian, of  Constantius  and  Maximus,  of  whom  Maximilian  tlie  martyr 
observed,  "  tliese  men  may  know  what  it  is  expedient  for  tliem  to 
do  ;  but  I  am  a  Christian,  and  therefore  cannot  fight"  That  real 
Christians  cotlld  have  been  found  in  the  army  in  this  century  is 
impossible ;  for  the  military  oatli  full  of  idolatry,  the  worshipping 
of  the  standards,  and  the  performance  of  sacrifice,  still  continued 
as  services  not  to  be  dispensed  with  by  the  soldiery.  No  one, 
therefore,  can  believe,  that  men  in  the  full  practice  of  pagan  idol- 
atry, as  every  legionary  soldier  must  then  have  been,  were  real 
Christians,  merely  because  it  is  recorded  in  history,  that  men, 
calling  themselves  Christians,  were  found  in  the  army  in  those 
times.  On  the  other  hand,  if  any  soldiers  professed  Christianity 
at  this  period,  or  are  related  by  authors  to  have  professed  it,  and 
yet  remained  soldiers,  it  may  be  directly  pronounced,  that  they 
could  have  been  merely  nominal  or  corrupted  Christians. 

Christianity  was  still  more  degenerate  in  the  fourth  century. 
Let  us  look  at  the  evidence  of  Lactantius  in  his  book  on  the 
Death  of  the  Persecuted.  He  tells  us  "  the  sacrifices  did  not  do 
well,  when  any  of  the  Christians  attended  them.^^  What !  Christians 
present  at  the  heathen  sacrifices,  and  sitting  at  meat  in  the  idol's 
temple  !  But  this  is  not  all.  He  gives  us  in  the  same  book 
another  piece  of  information  about  the  Christian  conformists  of  his 
time.  "  The  Emperor,"  says  he,  "  while  in  the  East,  made  a  sac- 
rifice of  oxen,  and  endeavored  to  ascertain,  by  inspection  of  the 
entrails,  what  was  about  to  happen.  At  this  time,  some  Christians, 
who  filed  the  inferior  oj^ces  of  the  {heathen)  priesthood,  ivhile  giving 
their  assistance  to  the  high  priest  on  this  occasion,  marked  their  fore- 
heads with  the  sign  of  the  cross.  The  consequence  was,  that  the 
aruspices  were  frightened,  and  could  not  collect  their  usual  marks." 
Here  then  we  see  not  only  that  Christians  were  present  at  some  of 
the  heathen  sacrifices,  but  that  they  filled  offices  belonging  to 
the  lowest  order  of  the  pagan  hierarchy.  We  may  go  still  fur- 
ther, and  assert  upon  authority  undeniable,  that  it  was  no  uncom- 
mon thing  in  this  age  for  Christians  to  accept  heathen  priesthoods  ; 
for  the  Council  of  Elvira,  in  tlie  beginning  of  the  fourth  century, 
was  forced  to  make  several  canons  to  forbid  such  scandalous  iisnges. 
But  it  is  not  necessary  to  detail  these  or  other  particulars  ;  almost 
every  body  knows  that  more  evils  sprang  up  to  the  Church  in  this 
century,  than  in  any  other.    Indeed,  the  corruption  of  Christianity 


191         THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS  ON  WAR.  11 

was  then  fixed  as  it  tvere  by  law.  Constantine,  on  his  conversion, 
introduced  many  of  the  pagan  ceremonies  and  superstitions  in 
which  he  had  been  brought  up.  The  Christians,  rejoicing  to  see 
an  Emperor  of  their  own  religious  persuasion,  submitted,  in  order 
to  please  or  flatter  him,  to  his  idolatrous  customs  and  opinions. 
Many  who  had  always  been  heathens,  professed  themselves  Chris- 
tians at  once,  merely  out  of  compliment  to  their  Emperor.  Thus 
there  came  to  be  a  mixture  of  Christianity  and  Heathenism  in  the 
Church.  Constantine,  too,  did  not  dispense  with  the  blasphemous 
titles  of  Pontifex  Maximus,  Divinity  and  Eternity,  given  to  his 
predecessors.  Ajfler  his  death,  he  was  considered  also  as  a  god; 
and,  if  Philostorgius  is  to  be  believed,  the  Christians,  for  so  he 
.  calls  them,  prayed  to  and  ^worshipped  him  as  such. 

Now,  in  this  century,  when  the  corruption  of  the  Church  was 
fixed,  and  Christians  had  submitted  to  certain  innovations  upon 
their  religion,  they  were  in  a  fit  state  to  go  greater  lengths  ;  and 
this  they  did  in  the  relaxation  of  their  religious  scruples  respecting 
war.  This  relaxation  was  also  promoted  by  other  means.  The 
existing  government,  in  order  to  make  the  military  service  more 
palatable  to  them,  dispensed  with  the  old  military  oath,  and  allowed 
them  to  swear  "  by  God,  by  Christ,  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  by 
the  Majesty  of  the  Emperor,  which,  next  to  God,  was  to  be  loved 
and  honored  by  mankind."  This  political  mancBUvre  did  away,  in 
some  measure,  apart  of  the  ohjection  to  a  military  life,  tvhich  arose 
from  its  idolatries.  The  grand  tenet  on  war  began  also  to  be  frit- 
tered down  by  some  of  the  leading  clergy  themselves.  It  had  been 
formerly  held  unlawful  for  Christians  to  fight  at  all ;  it  was  now 
insinuated  as  if  it  was  allowable  if  they  fought  under  the  banners 
of  Christian  Emperors,  for  bloodshed  in  war  was  more  excusable 
in  the  cause  of  virtue  and  religion.  This  new  interpretation  of 
the  old  tenet  afforded  a  salvo  to  the  consciences  of  many,  and 
helped  to  take  off  that  other  part  of  the  ohjection  to  a  military  life, 
which  consisted  in  the  unlawfulness  of  fighting.  Hence  the  unlaw- 
fulness of  fighting  began  to  be  given  up.  We  find,  however,  that 
here  and  there,  an  ancient  Father  still  retained  it  as  a  religious 
tenet ;  but,  these  dropping  off  one  afler  another,  it  ceased  at  length 
to  be  a  doctrine  of  the  Church,  and  lefl  her  to  all  Jthe  deep  war- 
degeneracy  of  subsequent  ages. 

Thus  have  we  proved  every  point  essential  to  our  main  posi- 
tions : 

1.  That  the  eariy  Fathers  generally  use  language  which  ob- 
viously condemns  all  war,  and  not  a  few  of  them  explicitly  de- 
nounce it  as  utterly  unchristian  : 

2.  That  they  all  speak  of  the  ancient  prophecies  concerning 
the  prevalence  of  peace  under  the  gospel,  as  actually  fulfilled  in 
the  Christians  of  that  age : 

3.  That  Christians  then  abstained  from  war  as  unlawful  for 
them,  and  suffered  martyrdom  for  their  refusal  to  bear  arms  : 


12  THE    EARLY    CHRISTIANS    ON    WAR.  192 

4.  That  ancient  and  modern  infidela  unite  in  ascribing  to  them 
these  peculiar  views: 

5.  That  Celsus,  near  the  close  of  the  second  century,  charged 
them  with  refusing  to  bear  arms  under  any  circumstances,  and 
Origen,  in  his  reply  fifty  years  after,  did  not  deny  the  charge,  but 
justified  them  on  the  ground,  tliat  Christianity  forbids  war : 

6.  That  the  war-degeneracy  of  the  Church  began  very  early  in 
the  third  century,  and  went  so  far  in  the  fourth,  that  under  and 
after  Constantine  the  Great,  Christians  engaged  in  war,  as  they 
generally  have  ever  since,  with  as  little  scruple  as  they  did  in  any 
occupation  of  life. 

We  cannot  well  conceive  what  farther  proof  any  fair  mind  can 
ask ;  but  we  might  add,  that  a  strong  odium  among  Christians  ^ 
attached  for  centuries  to  the  trade,  of  blood,  the  canons  of  the 
Church  expressly  prohibiting  the  ordination  of  any  that  had  ever 
been  soldiers,  and  refusing  it,  so  late  as  the  Council  of  Toledo,  to 
all  such  persons,  even  tliough  they  had  never  been  concerned  in 
the  shedding  of  blood.  War  was  an  object  of  deep,  utter  abhor- 
rence to  the  early  followers  of  Christ ;  and  we  deem  it  high  time 
for  his  modern  disciples  to  revive  the  primitive  faith  and  practice  on 
this  subject  How  would  such  a  revival  exalt  the  Christian  name, 
recommend  our  religion  to  the  world,  and  pave  the  way  for  its 
universal  spread  and  triumph  ! 


Testimony  of  Dr.  Cave. — "No  sooner  did  the  gospel  fly 
abroad,  but  the  love  and  charity  of  Christians  became  notorious 
even  to  a  proverb.  There  is  one  circumstance  respecting  it  wor- 
tliy  of  special  notice,  and  that  is,  the  universal  extent  of  it ;  thy 
did  good  to  all,  though  more  especially  to  them  of  the  household 
of  faitli.  They  were  kind  to  all  men,  yea,  to  their  bitterest  ene- 
mies. This,  indeed,  is  the  proper  goodness  and  excellency  of 
Christianity,  as  Tertullian  observes,  it  being  common  to  all  men  to 
love  their  friends,  but  peculiar  only  to  Christians  to  love  their 
enemies. 

Athenagoras  principally  makes  use  of  this  argument  to  prove 
the  divinity  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  challenges  all  the  great 
masters  of  reason  and  learning  among  the  heathens  to  produce 
any  of  so  pure  and  refined  a  temper,  as  could,  instead  of  hating, 
love  their  enemies,  bear  curses  and  revilings  with  an  undisturbed 
mind,  and,  instead  of  reviling  again,  bless  and  speak  well  of 
them,  and  pray  for  those  that  lay  in  wait  to  take  away  their 
lives.  And  yet  this  did  Christians  ;  they  embraced  their  enemies, 
and  pardoned  and  prayed  for  them.  Nay,  they  did  not  think  it 
enough  not  to  return  evil  for  evil,  or  barely  forgive  their  enemies, 
unless  they  did  them  all  the  kindness  that  lay  in  their  power." 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


***'  No.  XXIV. 

■       WAR-DEBTS. 


We  propose  to  sketch  the  war-debts,  not  of  the  whole  world, 
but  of  Europe  alone.  Their  exact  amount  it  is  impossible  to  as- 
certain, first,  because  its  governments  often  conceal  the  sum  total 
of  their  obligations ;  next,  because  the  debts,  even  when  reported, 
are  frequently  made  up  of  items  resembling  the  treasury-notes  of 
Sweden  issued  without  computation  or  limit ;  and,  finally,  because 
the  provincial  debts,  whicli  form  so  large  a  part  especially  in  the 
south  of  Europe,  are  often  omitted  entirely  from  governmental  re- 
ports. We  can,  therefore,  make  only  an  approximation  to  the 
truth;  and,  while  quoting  official  estimates  that  are  sometimes 
studiously  false,  and  generally  underrated,  we  must  leave  the 
reader  to  make  suCh  allowances  as  the  foregoing  considerations 
may  seem  to  require. 

I.  Great  Britain. — Charles  IL,  1600,  commenced  the  British 
debt  by  granting  life-annuities  for  money  furnished  to  support 
his  habits  of  extravagance  and  profligacy  ;  but  it  reached,  at 
the  abdication  of  James  IL,  1688,  only  $3,300,000.  William  III., 
passionately  fond  of  war,  and  deeply  interested  in  the  intrigues 
and  contests  of  Europe,  not  only  multiplied  taxes,  but  augnjented 
the  debt  more  than  $100,000,000.  The  Spanish  War  under  Anne, 
1702-13,  added  $187,500,000,  and  tliat  of  nine  years,  1739-48, 
under  George  II.,  $157,500,000  more.  The  Seven  Years'  War, 
1756-63,  added  to  the  taxes  of  England  $175,000,000,  and  to  her 
debt-$357,500,000.  Her  first  war  with  us  extorted  from  her  in 
taxes  $240,000,000,  and  in  loans  $515,000,000 ;  in  all,  $755,000,- 
000  !  Nine  years  of  war  with  France,  from  1793  to  1802,  added 
$900,000,000,  to  her  taxes,  and  $1,460,000,000  to  her  debt ;  while 
her  subsequent  wars  with  Napoleon,  180^15,  cost  her  in  loans 
$1,680,000,000,  and  $1,130,000,000  in  taxes,  carrying  her  entire 
debt  in  1815  up  to  $4,325,000,000 !  I  * 

*  We  subjoin  a  brief  table  of  the   British  national  debt  from  its  origin  to 
1838  5  estimating-  a  pound  sterling  in  round  numbers  at  five  dollars  : 
1660-1689.     Debt  contracted  under  Charles  II  and  James  XL,       ^3,f?00.000 
1689-1697.     Contracted  in  the  Revolution  under  William  III.,      105,000,000 
1702-1713.     In  the  war  of  the  Spanish  Succession  under  Anne,     187,300,000 

Total  Debt  in  1713,       270,000,000 

1739-1748     In  the  war  with  Spain,  and  the  Austrian  Succession,  157,500,000 
1756-1763.     In  the  Seven  Years'  War, 367,500,000 

Total  Debt  in  1763,       732,500,000 

1775-1783.    In  the  American  War 615,000.000 

Total  Debt  in  1783,       1,195,000^000 

1793-1802.     In  the  war  of  the  French  Revolution,  .     .     .     .      1,460,000,000 

Total  Debt  in  1802,        2,630,0(X),000 

1803-1815.     In  the  peace  of  1802-3,  and  war  with  Napoleon,     1,695,000,000 

Total  Debt  in  LS15,        4,325,000,000 

Total  Debt  in  1838,       3,960,000,000 

P.  T.       NO.  XXIV. 


ti  WAR-DEBTS.  194 

It  is  surprising  that  any  nation  on  earth  should  be  able  to  stand 
under  a  debt  so  enormous.  No  other  one  could  ;  nor  could  Eng- 
land herself,  if  nearly  the  whole  sum  were  not  due  to  her  own 
citizens.  Sooner  oriater,  however,  a  day  of  reckoning  must  come ; 
and  a  terrible  day  will  that  be  to  England,  or  at  least  to  her 
monied  aristocracy. 

What  enormous  taxes  must  such  a  debt  impose  !  nearly 
$150,000,000  a  year  to  pay  simply  the  interest  and  management! 
"  Taxes,"  says  the  Edinburgh  Review,  "  upon  every  article  which 
enters  the  mouth,  or  covers  the  back,  or  is  placed  under  the  feet ; 
taxes  upon  every  thing  which  it  is  pleasant  to  see,  hear,  feel, 
smell  or  taste ;  taxes  upon  warmth,  light  and  locomotion ;  taxes 
upon  every  thing  on  the  earth,  and  in  the  waters  under  the  earth ; 
taxes  on  every  thing  that  comes  from  abroad,  or  is  grown  at  home ; 
taxes  on  the  raw  material,  and  upon  every  fresh  value  that  is 
added  to  it  by  the  industry  of  man ;  taxes  on  the  sauce  that 
pampers  man's  appetite,  and  the  drug  that  restores  him  to  health ; 
on  the  ermine  which  decorates  the  judge,  and  the  rope  which 
hangs  the  criminal ;  on  the  poor  man's  salt,  and  the  rich  man's 
spice ;  on  the  brass  nails  of  the  coffin,  and  the  ribbons  of  the  bride. 
Taxes  we  never  escape  ;  at  bed  or  board,  couchant  or  levant,  we 
must  pay.  The  school-boy  whips  his  taxed  top,  the  beardless 
youth  manages  his  taxed  horse,  with  a  taxed  bridle,  upon  a  taxed 
road ;  and  the  dying  Englishman,  pouring  his  medicine  which  has 
paid  seven  per  cent,  into  a  spoon  that  has  paid  fifteen  per  cent., 
flings  himself  back  upon  his  chintz  bed  which  has  paid  twenty-two 
per  cent,  makes  his  will  on  an  eight  pound  stamp,  and  expires  in 
the  arms  of  an  apothecary  who  has  paid  a  license  of  a  hundred 
pounds  for  tlie  privilege  of  putting  him  to  death.  His  whole  prop- 
erty is  immediately  taxed  from  two  to  ten  p«r  cent  Besides  the 
probate,  large  fees  are  demanded  for  burying  him  in  the  chancel ; 
his  virtues  are  handed  down  to  posterity  on  taxed  marble ;  and 
then  he  is  gathered  to  his  fathers — to  be  taxed  no  more." 

There  is,  however,  one  important  benefit  resulting  from  the 
British  debt  It  makes  England  reluctant  to  engage  in  war ;  and 
well  were  Canning  and  Brougham  wont  to  say,  s^  was  under  bonds 
of  eight  hundred  millions  sterling  to  keep  the  peace.  Even  she,  with 
all  her  wealth,  could  not  sustain  another  series  of  wars  like  those 
she  waged  against  Napoleon  and  the  French.  There  is  now  no 
alternative  for  her  but  peace,  or  bankruptcy  and  ruin. 

II.  France. — The  history  of  her  debt,  written  in  the  blood  of 
her  revolutions,  it  would  be  very  interesting  to  trace  ;  but  it  must 
suffice  here  to  say,  that  in  1830,  it  was  4,515,605,834  francs,  and 
in  1840,  was  slightly  reduced  to  4,457,736,996. 

III.  Russia. — The  resources  of  this  empire  are  small  in  com- 
parison with  its  vast  extent,  its  annual  revenue  being  rated  at 
380,000,000  rubles,  or  only  about  $75,000,000.  It  is  impossible 
to  learn  the  precise  amount  of  the  Russian  debt  McCulloch  puts 
It  at  956,337,574  rubles ;  but  the  Conversation's  Lexicon  says  it 
amounted  in  1840  to  869,411,191  rubles. 


195  WAR-DEBTS.  3 

IV.  Holland. — The  Dutch  are,  if  possible,  worse  off  than  the 
English.  The  debt  of  Holland  in  1840  amounted  to  800,000,- 
000  German  dollars,  and  that  of  Belgium  to  120,000,000.  The 
solvency  of  Holland  is  very  doubtful ;  for  her  expenses  since  1830 
have  almost  invariably  exceeded  her  income,  and  thus  her  debt 
has  been  constantly  increasing.  The  Dutch  have  tried  every  ex- 
pedient to  extricate  themselves,  reducing  the  perquisites  of  royalty 
so  low  as  to  make  their  king  little  more  than  a  burgomaster,  and 
paring  down  their  protective  duties  so  as  to  secure  the  largest  pos- 
sible amount  of  revenue ;  yet,  after  all,  bankruptcy  is  staring  them 
in  the  face.  What  a  catastrophe  for  a  nation  that  once  stood  at' 
the  head  of  the  commerce  of  the  world ! 

V.  Spain. — The  profligacy  of  Spain  in  repudiating  or  evading 
her  obligations,  renders  it  impossible  to  tell  how  much  she  now 
owes  ;  but,  according  to  semi-official  statements,  her  entire  debt, 
in  October,  1841,  was  $775,000,000:  This  sum  is  divided  into  an 
internal  and  an  external  debt.  The  latter  is  near  $316,000,000, 
chiefly  due  to  English  capitalists ;  but  even  the  interest  has  not 
been  paid  for  a  long  period. 

VI.  Portugal. — The  financial  condition  of  Portugal  resembles 
that  of  Spain.  Her  whole  debt  amounted  in  1840  to  144,500,000 
German  dollars;  and  her  income  the  same  year  was  rated  at 
8,000,000  Spanish  dollars,  while  her  expenses  were  estimated  at 
$11,000,000. 

VII.  Denmark. — Of  the  Danish  debt,  we  can  form  no  certain 
estimate ;  but,  at  the  close  of  1839,  it  was  put  at  62,786.804 
rix  dollars  unftlnded  debt,  5,390,385  funded  debt,  and  1,423,841 
annuities,  with  an  internal  debt  of  69,601,031 ;  in  all,  134,202,061. 

We  have  not  space  to  give  in  detail  the  deists  of  other  coun- 
tries. The  different  principalities  of  Germany  owed  in  1840,  a 
sum  total  of  650,000,000  German  dollars ;  Austria,  733,200,000 
convention  florins ;  Prussia,  130,000,000  rix  dollars ;  Bavaria, 
126,550,907  florins;  Naples,  108,000,000  ducats,  and  Sardinia, 
87,000,000  crowns. 

The  sum  total  of  European  debts  exceeds  ten  thousand  millions 
of  German  dollars  ;  and,  if  we  make  due  allowance  for  the  coun- 
tries omitted,  and  for  estimates  below  the  truth,  the  whole  in  1840 
would  probably  not  be  less  than  the  same  number  of  Spanish  dol- 
lars. Ten  thousand  millions  !  What  an  amount  of  war-debts  for 
Europe  alone !  Five  times  as  much  as  all  the  coin  on  the  globe ; 
the  bare  interest,  at  six  per  cent,  $600,000,000  a  year,  almost  two 
millions  every  day  !  the  simple  interest  nearly  as  much  every  day 
as  all  Christendom  is  giving  annually  ^ox  the  spread  of  the  gospel! 

These  liabilities  we  call  tt'ar-debts.  So  they  are ;  they  were 
contracted  almost  exclusively  for  war  purposes  ;  had  there  been 
no  war,  there  would  have  been  no  debt ;  and,  were  the  war-system 
now  discarded,  all  Europe  could  in  fifty  years,  most  of  her  states 
in  far  less  time,  pay  off  the  last  farthing  of  her  enormous  obliga- 
tions, and  thus  start,  unfettered  and  unclogged,  upon  a  new,  un- 
paralleled career  of  prosperity 


WAR-DEBTS. 


196 


We  subjoin  a  genenl  view  of  European  debts  in  German  dol- 
lars, equal  to  about  eighty-two  cents  each. 


CoutUry. 

Debts. 

Inhahitavts.  Aver,  to  each  inhab. 

Holland, 

$800,000,000 

3,000,000 

$266.67 

England, 

5,556,000,000 

25,000,000 

222.24 

Frankfort, 

5,000,000 

55,000 

90.91 

France, 

1,800,000,000 

33,000,000 

54.55 

Bremen, 

3,000,000 

55,000 

54,55 

Hamburg, 

7,000,000 

155,000 

45.16 

Denmark, 

03,000,000 

2,100,000 

44.57 

Greece, 

44,000,000 

1,000,000 

44.00 

Portugal, 

141,000,000 

3,800,000 

38.G3 

Lubec, 

1,700,000 

45,000 

37.78 

Spain, 

467,000,000 

13,000,000 

35.92 

Austria, 

380,000,000 

12,000,000 

31.67 

Belgium, 

120,000,000 

4,000,000 

30.00 

Papal  States, 

67,000,000 

2,500,000 

26.80 

Hesse-Hamburg,        587,000 

25,000 

23.48 

Saxe-Meiningen,     3,000,000 

140,000 

21.43 

Anhalt-Kothen 

800,000 

39,000 

20.51 

Brunswick, 

-  5,000,000 

260,000 

19.23 

Bavaria, 

72,350,000 

4,250,000 

17.00 

Naples, 

126,000,000 

7,600,000 

16.58 

Saxe-Weimar, 

3,000,000 

240,000 

12.50 

Hanover, 

:ir',ooo,ooo 

1,700,000 

11.47 

Prussia, 

150.000,000 

13,500,000 

11.11 

Nassau, 

3.700,000 

370,000 

10.00 

Russia  &.  Poland,545,000,000 

60,000,000 

9.09 

Baden, 

11,000,000 

1,250,000 

8.80 

Wiirtemburg, 

14,000,000 

1,600,000 

8.75 

Parma, 

3,700,000 

430,000 

8.60 

Hesse-Darmstadt,    6,250,000 

800,000 

7.81 

Modena, 

3,000,000 

403,000 

7.44 

Sardinia, 

32,000,000 

4,500,000 

7.11 

Saxony, 

11,000,000 

1,700,000 

6.47 

Saxe-Altenburg,        700,000 

120,000 

5.83 

Norway 

4,125,000 

1,000,000 

4.13 

Mecklenburg, 

2,000,000 

600,000 

3.38 

Saxe-Coburg, 

1,600,000 

Hesse-Cassel, 

1,256,000 

700,000 

1.79 

Schwarzburg, 

150,000 

116,000 

1.29 

$10,409,710,000 

201,053,000 

$52.23 

P.  S. — For  further  information  on  this  subject,  see  McGregor's 
CormncrcifU.  Lcgu/lation,  McCulloch's  Statistical  Dictiojiary^  Hunt's 
Merchants  Magazine  for  18!r<,  Conversation  s  Lexicon  der  Gegenwart. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


J 


'  .  No.  XXV. 

RESULTS    OF  ONE    WAR 

AMONG  NOMINAL   CHRISTIANS    IN   THE    SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY. 


War  has  ever  been  a  mass  of  evils ;  and  a  review  of  its  history 
would  exhibit,  in  every  age  and  clime,  essentially  the  same  re- 
sults, physical,  political  and  moral.  Every  reader  of  history  is 
familiar  with  the  so  called  Thirty  Years'  War,  which  raged  in  the 
heart  of  Europe  from  1618  to  1648.  .  It  was  a  religious  war,  and 
involved  tlie  great  mass  of  Papists  and  Protestants, — the  former 
under  their  Catholic  League,  the  latter  in  their  Evangelical  Union. 
Schiller,  in  his  history  of  this  war,  says,  "  from  the  interior  of 
Bohemia  to  the  mouth  of  the  Scheldt,  from  the  banks  of  the  Po  to 
the  coasts  of  the  Baltic,  it  desolated  countries,  destroyed  harvests, 
and  laid  towns  and  villages  in  ashes  ;  extinguished,  during  half  a 
century,  the  rising  progress  of  civilization  in  Germany ;  and  re- 
duced the  improving  manners  of  the  people  to  their  ancient  bar- 
barism." 

We  have  been  wont  to  regard  the  wars  consequent  on  the 
French  Revolution,  as  teaching  lessons  of  atrocity  and  horror 
unknown  before  ;  but  the  following  items,  taken  from  the  biogra- 
pher of  Wallenstein,  furnish  some  parallels  even  to  the  Russian 
Campaign. 

"  Thirty  years  of  war,  carried  on  not  with  the  surplus  population 
and  resources  of  the  country,  but  with  its  very  capital  and  sub- 
stance, had  brought  the  empire  to  the  verge  of  ruin  and  barba-"^ 
rism ;  and  the  pictures  of  desolation  handed  down  to  us  by  writers 
and  chroniclers  of  the  period,  are  absolutely  frightful  to  cojitem- 
plate. 

Of  all  the  commanders  who  appeared  during  the  war,  Gustavus 
Adolphus  was  alone  able  to  preserve  in  his  army  a  strict  and 
humane  system  of  discipline.  In  most  of  the  armies,  the  merce- 
nary soldiers,  irregularly  paid,  and  worse  supplied,  were  obliged 
to  tear  by  force  from  the  citizens  and  peasants,  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence. The  country  people  resisted  wherever  they  were 
strongest ;  acts  of  violence  followed  ;  the  peasantry  slew  and,  in 
Catholic  countries,  tortured  straggling  soldiers,  and  attacked  even 
small  detached  parties.  The  military  avenged  their  comrades, 
neglecting  too  often  to  distinguish  between  the  innocent  and  the 
guilty,  till  ruin  and  devastation  tracked  at  last  the  progress  of 
every  march. 

The  war  was  carried  on  without  plan  or  system.  Expeditions 
were  undertaken,  apparently  with  no  other  view  than  to  desolate 
hostile  provinces  ;  and,  in  the  end,  provisions  and  winter  quarters 
formed  the  principal  objects  of  the  summer  campaigns.     Want, 

p.   T.       NO.  XXV. 


2  RESULTS    OF    ONE    WAR.  198 

sickness,  distress,  and  tho  total  absence  of  discipline,  by  which 
these  evils  were  fearruiiy  aug^mented,  destroyed  far  more  troops 
than  the  sword,  and  entire  armies  were  swept  away  before  they 
had  even  seen  an  enemy.  Soldiers  left  the  ranks  singly,  or  in 
bands,  as  it  suited  them,  and  generally  took  to  plundering ;  in 
1G42  the  whole  of  Marshall  Gubriant's  army  dispersed  itself,  and 
broke  into  robber  hordes  that  conmiitted  the  most  fearful  depreda- 
tions. 

The  enormities  charj^ed  against  the  French  troops  of  the  period, 
are  equal  to  those  charg^ed  even  against  the  Croats ;  but  Gubriant's 
army  was  in  fact  the  remains  of  the  army  which  had  been  raised 
by  the  Duke  of  Weimar,  and  was  composed  of  adventurers  from 
all  countries.  It  must  also  be  observed,  that  the  French  soldiers 
of  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  were  in  a  great  pro- 
portion vagrants  and  vagibonds,  taken  up  as  bad  subjects  by  the 
police,  and  sent  to  the  army,  either  because  troops  were  wanted, 
or  because  the  individuals  pressed  could  give  no  satisfactory  ac- 
count of  themselves. 

Historians  mostly  assert,  that  Europe  was  thrown  back  a  whole 
century  by  the  ruinous  consequences  of  this  war.  In  many  parts 
of  Germany  learning  was  no  doubt  retarded,  in  others  altogether 
swept  away  along  with  tlie  population.  An  entire  generation 
grew  up  amid  scenes  of  strife,  licentiousness,  and  the  uncertainty 
of  the  morrow.  But  the  amount  of  knowledge  existing  could  not 
be  destroyed ;  and  thousands  of  learned,  able  and  industrious  Ger- 
mans emigrated,  and  carried  along  with  tliem  into  other  and  less 
enlightened  countries,  the  arts  and  knowledge  for  which  tlieir  own 
was  already  distinguished.  The  Danes,  Swedes,  Poles  and  Scots, 
who  fought  in  Germany,  there  came  in  contact  with  a  state  of 
, civilization  superior  to  vv  hat  existed  in  their  own  countries ;  and, 
along  with  much  unwortliy  spoil,  some  fair  and  honorable  booty 
would  at  least  be  carried  home  by  the  military  adventurers. 

But,  whatever  advantage  Europe  may  have  gained  by  the  con- 
test, Germany  purchased  its  share  of  the  benefit  at  a  fearful  price. 
Law,  justice,  equity,  in  many  places,  all  the  decencies  of  life,  had 
entirely  vanished  from  a  land  in  which  force  alone  wielded  the 
arbitrary  sceptre  of  command.  The  country  is  said  to  have  lost 
twelve  millions  of  inhabitants  by  the  contest ;  and  the  population, 
which  amounted  to  sixteen  millions  when  the  troubles  first  broke 
out,  counted  hardly  more  than  fo»ir  millions  when  the  war  closed  ! 
Though  this  statement  mny  perhaps  be  exaggerated,  it  seems 
pretty  well  ascertained  th  it  tlie  population  of  the  Dutchy  of  Wir- 
temberg  was  reduced  fiom  half  a  million  to  forty-eight  thousand  ; 
that  of  Bohemia  had  alroady  been  reduced  from  three  millions  to 
eight  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  before  the  death  of  Ferdinand 
II. ;  and  Saxony  and  Brunswick  suffered  in  the  same  proportion ; — 
a  reduction  in  one  case  of  nearly  three-fourths,  in  another  of  more 
than  nine-tenths ! 

In  the  Electorate  of  Hesse,  seventeen  towns,  forty-seven  castles, 
and  three  hundred  villages  had  been  burnt  to  the  ground.    In  the 


199  RESULTS    OF    ONE    WAR.  3 

Dutchy  of  Wirtemberg,  eight  towns,  forty-five  villages,  and  thirty- 
six  thousand  houses,  had  been  laid  in  ashes,  and  seventy  thousand 
hearth  fires  completely  extinguished.  Seven  churches,  and  four 
hundred  and  forty-four  houses,  had  been  burned  at  Eichsted. 
Many  towns  that  had  escaped  destruction,  were  almost  depopu- 
lated. Three  hundred  houses  stood  empty  at  Nordheim ;  and 
more  than  two  hundred  had  been  pulled  down  at  Gottingen,  merely 
to  serve  for  fuel.  The  wealthy  city  of  Augsburg,  which  contained 
eighty  thousand  inhabitants  before  the  war,  had  only  eighteen 
thousand  left  when  it  closed ;  and  this  town,  like  many  others,  has 
never  recovered  its  former  prosperity.  No  less  than  thirty  thousand 
villages  and  hamlets  are  said  to  have  been  destroyed ;  in  many 
others  the  population  had  entirely  died  out ;  and  the  unburied 
corpses  of  the  last  victims  of  violence  or  disease,  were  left  exposed 
about  the  streets  or  fields,  to  be  mangled,  and  torn  to  pieces  by 
birds  and  beasts  of  prey. 

In  the  last  campaign  of  the  war,  the  French  and  Swedes  burned 
no  less  than  a  hundred  villages  in  Bavaiia  alone  ;  and  the  skulls 
of  St.  Cosmas  and  St.  Damianus  had  to  be  sent  from  Bremen 
to  Munich,  in  order  to  console  Maximilian  for  the  ruin  he  had 
brought  over  his  beautiful  country.  But  even  these  pitiable  relics 
failed  to  allay  the  fears  of  the  unhappy  Elector;  the  share  which 
he  had  taken  in  bringing  about  this  desolating  contest,  pressed 
heavily  on  the  latter  years  of  his  life.  In  vain  he  prayed  and 
fasted ;  the  dreadful  future  was  constantly  before  his  sight,  and 
the  once  valiant  soldier  and  ambitious  prince  died  at  last  a  trem- 
bling and  despairing  bigot. 

The  crimes  and  cruelties  of  which  the  troops  were  frequently 
guilty,  would  appear  almost  incredible,  were  they  not  attested  in  a 
manner  to  render  doubt  altogether  impossible.  But  independent 
of  private  accounts,  we  have  various  reports  from  the  authorities 
of  towns,  villages  and  provinces,  complaining  of  the  atrocities 
committed  by  the  lawless  soldiery.  Peaceful  peasants  were  hunt- 
ed for  mere  sport,  like  the  beasts  of  the  forest ;  citizens  were 
nailed  up  against  doors  and  walls,  and  fired  at  like  targets  ;  while 
horsemen  and  Croats  tried  their  skill  at  striking  off  the  heads  of 
young  -children  at  a  blow !  Ears  and  noses  were  cut  off,  eyes 
were  scooped  out,  and  the  most  horrible  tortures  contrived  to  ex- 
tract money  from  the  sufferers,  or  to  make  them  disclose  where 
property  was  concealed !  Women  were  exposed  to  every  species 
of  indignity ;  they  were  collected  in  bands,  and  driven,  like  slaves, 
into  the  camps  of  tlie  ruffian  soldiery,  and  men  had  to  fly  from 
their  homes  to  escape  witnessing  the  dishonor  to  which  their  wives 
and  daughters  were  subjected ! 

Houses  and  villages  were  burnt  out  of  mere  wantonness,  and 
the  wretched  inhabitants  too  often  forced  into  tlie  flames,  to  be 
consumed  along  with  their  dwellings.  Amid  these  scenes  of  hor- 
ror, intemperance,  dissipation  and  profligacy  were  carried  to  the 
highest  pitch.  Intoxication  frequently  prevented  the  Austrian 
Greneral,  Goltz,  from  giving  out  the  countersign ;  and  General 


4  RESULTS    OF    ONE    WAR.  200 

Banner  was,  on  one  occasion,  so  drunk  for  four  days  logether, 
that  he  could  not  receive  the  French  ambassador,  Beauregurd, 
who  had  an  important  message  to  deliver.  '  Such  was  the  state 
of  triumphant  crime,'  says  a  writer  of  the  period,  'that  many, 
driven  to  despair,  denied  even  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  declaring 
that,  if  there  were  a  God  in  heaven,  he  would  not  fail  to  destroy 
with  thunder  and  lightning,  such  a  world  of  sin  and  wickedness.' 

The  peasants,  expelled  from  their  homes,  enlisted  witli  the  op- 
pressors, in  order  to  inflict  upon  others  the  sufferings  which  they 
had  themselves  been  made  to  endure.  The  fields  were  allowed  to 
run  waste,  and  the  absence  of  industry  on  one  side,  added  to  de- 
struction on  the  other,  soon  produced  famine  which,  as  usual, 
brought  infections  and  pestilential  diseases  in  its  train.  In  1635, 
there  were  not  hands  enough  left  at  Schweidnitz  to  bury  the  dead, 
and  the  town  of  Ohlau  had  lost  its  last  citizen.  Want  augmented 
crime,  even  where  an  increase  was  thought  impossible.  In  many 
places  hunger  had  overcome  all  repugnance  to  human  flesh,  and 
the  tales  of  cannibalism  handed  down  to  us  are  of  far  too  horrible 
a  nature  to  be  here  repeated. 

The  cup  of  human  sufiering  was  full  even  to  overflowing,  and 
the  very  aspect  of  the  land  was  undergoing  a  rapid  change.  For- 
ests sprung  up  during  the  contest,  and  covered  entire  districts, 
which  had  been  in  full  cultivation  before  the  war;  and  wolves,  and 
other  beasts  of  prey  took  possession  of  the  deserted  haunts  of  men. 
This  was  particularly  the  case  in  Brunswick,  Brandenburg  and 
Pomerania,  where  heaps  of  ashes  in  the  midst  of  wildernesses, 
served  long  afterwards  to  mark  the  spots  where  peace  and  civiliza- 
tion had  once  flourished.  In  many  parts  of  the  country,  the  ruins' 
of  castles  and  stately  edifices  still  attest  the  fury  with  which  the 
war  was  carried  on ;  and  on  such  s[X)ts  tradition  generally  points 
out  tlie  surrounding  forests,  as  occupying  tlie  sites  of  fertile  fields, 
whence  the  lordly  owners  of  the  mansions  derived  food  and  sub- 
sistence for  themselves  and  their  numerous  retainers." 

If  the  evils  of  war  can  of  themselves  dissuade  men  from  the 
practice,  why  did  not  such  evils  as  these  prevent  the  terrible  wars 
of  the  next  century  ?  How  came  all  Europe  to  plunge  into  the 
wars  of  the  French  Revolution  ?  Why  have  the  latter  done  so 
much  more  to  bring  tlie  custom  of  war  into  discredit,  disuse  and 
abhorrence  ?  Mainly,  if  not  solely,  because  the  friends  of  peace 
have  kept  its  leading  facts  before  the  world,  culled  from  them 
lessons  of  peace,  and  pressed  these  lessons  incessantly  upon  the 
public  mind. 

This  it  is  that  has  under  God  held  Europe  for  thirty  years 
(1845)  back  from  her  former  wars,  and  led  her  cabinets  to  begin 
the  policy  of  adjusting  their  difficulties  by  pacific  means.  Let 
this  policy  continue  a  century,  and  it  would  probably  put  an  end 
forever  to  the  war-method  of  settling  tlieir  disputes.  "  This  can  be 
done ;  make  public  sentiment  what  it  should  be,  and  it  tmll  be  done. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXVI. 

NECKAR   ON   PEACES 

OR 
THE    CALAMITIES    OP    WAR,  AND    THE    BLESSINGS    OP    PEACE. 

BY    M.  NECKAR.* 

With  what  impatience  have  I  wished  to  discuss  this  subject ! 
How  irresistibly  has  my  heart  been  led  to  expatiate  on  the  evils 
which  are  ever  attendant  on  this  terrible  calamity !  War,  alas  ! 
impedes  the  course  of  every  salutary  plan,  exhausts  the  sources  of 
prosperity,  and  diverts  the  attention  of  governors  from  the  happi- 
I  ness  of  nations.  It  even  suspends,  sometimes,  every  idea  of  justice 
and  humanity.  In  a  word,  instead  of  gentle  and  benevolent  feel- 
ings, it  substitutes  hostility  and  hatred,  the  necessity  of  oppression, 
and  the  rage  of  desolation. 

The  first  idea  that  occurs  to  me  when  reflecting  on  the  origin 
of  most  wars,  is,  that  those  great  combinations  of  politics  which 
have  so  often  kindled  the  torch  of  discord,  and  occasioned  so  many 
ravages,  have  very  seldom  merited  all  the  admiration  that  has 
been  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  them.  I  have  also  been  forcibly 
struck  with  this  consideration,  that  most  governments  appear  satis- 
fied, if  at  the  conclusion  of  a  bloody  and  expensive  war,  they  have 
made  an  honorable  peace  ;  but  each  should  consider  what  would 
have  been  its  situation  at  the  period  when  the  treaty  was  con- 
cluded, if  war  had  not  interrupted  the  course  of  its  prosperity. 

Let  us  suppose  France  obliged  to  alienate  from  fifty  to  sixty 
million  francs  of  its  annual  revenue  for  the  prosecution  of  a  given 
war  ;  and  let  us  next  take  a  cursory  view  of  the  different  uses  to 
which  such  a  revenue  might  have  been  applied,  not  only  for  the 
advancement  of  the  national  happiness,  but  for  the  augmentation 
of  the  military  force.  With  eighteen  millions  of  that  annual  reve- 
nue, the  regimental  companies  might  hive  been  completed  to  their 
full  complement,  and  the  army  auoi rented  by  fifty  thousand  in- 
fantry, and  ten  or  twelve  thousand  Ijorse.  Two  millions  of  that 
revenue  would  pay  the  interest  of  a  loan  of  forty  millions,  which 
would  have  added  to  our  navy  thirty  men-of-war,  and  a  propor- 
tionate number  of  frigates  ;  and  this  augmentation  might  have 
been  maintained  by  four  millions  yearly.  Thus  we  see  twenty- 
four  millions  of  that  revenue  devoted  solely  to  the  military  service. 

Let  us  now  apply  the  surplus  to  the  various  parts  of  administra- 
tion, and  consider  the  result.  With  eighteen  millions  yearly,  the 
price  of  salt  might  have  been  rendered  uniform  throughout  the 
kingdom,  by  reducing  it  one-third  in  the  provinces  of  little  gabels, 
(the  excise  on  salt,)  and  two-thirds  in  those  of  the  great,  and  not 

*  Formerly  Minister  of  Finance.  From  his  celebrated  work  on  the  Fi- 
nances of  France. 

P.  T.      NO.  XXVI. 


2  NECKAR    ON    PEACE. 

increaBiDg  the  charges  of  the  privileged  provinces.  With  from 
four  to  five  millions  annually,  the  interior  parts  of  the  kingdom 
might  have  been  freed  from  all  custom-house  duties.  With 
2,500,000  livres,  all  the  necessary  canals  might  have  been  exe- 
cuted, that  are  still  wanting  in  the  kingdom.  With  one  million 
more  per  annum,  government  might  be  enabled  to  bestow  suf- 
ficient encouragement  on  all  the  establishments  of  industry  that 
can  advance  the  prosperity  of  France.  With  1,500,000  livres,  the 
sums  annually  destined  to  give  employment  to  the  poor,  might  be 
doubled ;  and,  while  great  advantages  would  thus  accrue  to  the  in- 
habitants of  the  country,  the  neighboring  communications  might 
be  multiplied.  With  the  same  sum,  the  prisons  throughout  the 
kingdom  might  in  a  few  years  be  improved,  and  all  tJie  charitable 
institutions  brought  to  perfection.  And  with  2,000,000  annually, 
the  clearing  of  the  waste  lands  might  proceed  with  incredible 
vigor.  These  distributions  amount  to  thirty-one  millions,  which, 
joined  to  twenty-four  millions  for  military  expenses,  make  together 
the  annual  revenue  of  fifty -five  millions  employed  as  above ;  a 
sum  equal  to  that  which  I  have  supposed  to  be  alienated  for  the 
disbursements  of  the  war. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for,  if  we  estimate  the  diminution  of  commerce 
which  results  from  a  war  of  five  or  six  years'  duration,  it  will  be 
found  that  the  kingdom  is  deprived  of  a  considerable  increase  of 
riches.  In  fine,  war,  and  the  loans  which  it  occasions,  create  a 
very  sensible  rise  in  the  rate  of  interest.  On  the  contrary,  peace, 
under  a  wise  administration,  would  lower  it  annually,  were  it  only 
in  consequence  of  the  increase  of  specie,  and  of  the  influence  of 
the  stated  reimbursements.  This  successive  reduction  of  interest 
is  likewise  a  source  of  inestimable  advantages  to  commerce,  agri- 
culture and  the  finances. 

Let  tliese  eflTects  be  now  compared  with  the  advantages  which 
a  fortunate  Avar  (and  all  wars  are  not  so)  would  secure  ;  and  it 
will  be  found  that  ten  seeds  have  been  sown,  in  order  to  gather 
the  fruit  of  one.  A  government  may  humble  its  rivals,  and  extend 
its  dominions  ;  but  to  employ  its  resources  for  the  happiness  of  its 
subjects,  and  command  respect  witliout  the  assistance  and  dan- 
gers of  an  ever  restless  policy,  is  a  conduct  which  alone  can  cor- 
respond to  the  greatness  of  its  situation,  or  secure  all  the  advan- 
tages to  be  derived  from  it  It  is  not  Avar,  but  a  wise  and  pacific 
administration,  that  can  procure  all  the  advantages  of  which 
France  may  be  yet  in  want  The  quantity  of  specie  in  the  king- 
dom is  immense;  but  the  want  of  public  confidence  very  often 
occasions  the  greater  part  of  it  to  be  hoarded  up.  The  population 
of  the  kingdom  is  immense ;  but  the  excess  and  nature  of  the 
taxes  impoverish  and  dishearten  the  people.  The  revenue  is  im- 
mense ;  but  the  public  debt  consumes  two-fifths  of  it  The  contri- 
butions of  the  nation,  in  particular,  are  immense ;  but  it  is  only  by 
the  strengthening  of  public  credit,  that  government  can  succeed 
in  finding  sufficient  resources  in  extraordinary  emergencies. 
Finally,  *he  balance  of  commerce  in  favor  of  the  kingdom  is  an 
inrniense  source  of  riches  ;  but  war  interrupts  the  current. 


203  NECKAR    ON    PEACE. 

What,  then,  would  be  the  case,  if  we  join  to  all  these  consider- 
ations, the  calamities  inseparable  from  war  ?  How  would  it  ap- 
pear, should  we  endeavor  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  lives  and 
sufferings  of  men  ?  In  the  midst  of  a  council  convened  to  in- 
fluence the  opinion  of  the  sovereign,  the  most  upright  of  his 
servants  might  address  him  in  this  language : — 

"  Sire,  war  is  the  source  of  so  many  evils,  it  is  so  terrible  a 
scourge,  that  a  gracious  and  discerning  Prince  ought  never  to 
undertake  it  but  from  motives  of  justice  that  are  indisputable;  and 
it  behoves  the  greatest  monarch  in  the  world  to  give  that  example 
of  the  morality  of  kings  which  assures  the  happiness  of  humanity, 
and  the  tranquillity  of  nations.  Do  not  give  way,  Sire,  to  vain 
anxieties,  or  to  uncertain  expectations.  Ah !  what  have  you  to 
fear,  and  what  can  excite  your  jealousy?  You  reign  over 
26,000,000  of  men.  Providence,  with  a  bountiful  hand,  has  dif- 
fused the  choicest  blessings  through  your  empire  by  multiplying 
the  productions  of  every  kind.  The  war  proposed  will  cost  you  eiglift 
or  nine  hundred  millions ;  and,  were  even  victory  every  where  to 
follow  your  arms,  you  will  devote  to  death,  or  cruel  sufferings,  so 
great  a  number  of  your  subjects,  that  were  any  one,  who  could 
read  futurity,  to  present  you  this  moment  with  the  list,  you  would 
start  back  with  horror.  I^pr  is  this  all ;  your  people,  who  have 
scarcely  had  a  respite,  you  are  going  to  crush  with  new  taxes. 
You  are  going  to  slacken  the  activity  of  commerce  and  manufac- 
tures, those  inestimable  sources  of  industry  and  wealth ;  and,  in 
order  to  procure  soldiers  and  seamen,  the  men  accustomed  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  earth,  will  be  forced  from  the  interior  provinces, 
and  a  hundred  thousand  families  deprived  of  their  supporters. 

"And  when  crowned  by  the  most  splendid  success,  after  so  many 
evils,  after  so  many  calamities,  what  may  you  perhaps  obtain? 
An  unsteady  ally,  uncertain  gratitude,  an  island  more  than  two 
thousand  leagues  from  your  empire,  or  some  new  subjects  in 
another  hemisphere.  Alas !  you  are  invited  to  nobler  conquests. 
Turn  your  eyes  to  the  interior  parts  of  your  kingdom.  Consider 
what  communications  and  canals  may  still  be  wanting.  Behold 
those  pestilential  marshes  which  ought  to  be  drained,  and  those 
deserted  lands  which  would  be  cultivated  on  the  first  tender  of 
support  from  government  Behold  that  part  of  your  people  whom 
a  diminution  of  taxes  would  excite  to  new  undertakings.  Look, 
more  especially,  on  that  other  tmly  wretched  class,  who  stand  in 
immediate  need  of  succor  in  order  to  support  the  misery  of  their 
situation.  In  the  mean  time,  in  order  to'' effectuate  so  many  bene- 
fits, a  small  part  of  the  revenues  which  you  are  going  to  consume 
in  the  war  to  which  you  are  advised,  would  perhaps  be  sufficient. 
Are  not  the  numerous  inhabitants  of  your  extensive  dominions 
sufficient  to  engage  your  paternal  love  ?  And  is  not  their  happi- 
ness equal  to  the  greatest  extent  of  good  which  it  is  in  the  power 
of  a  single  man  to  perform  ? 

"But  if  you  are  desirous  of  new  subjects,  you  may  acquire  them 
without  the  effusion  of  blood,  or  the  triumphs  of  a  battle  ;  for  they 
will  spring  up  in  every  part  of  your  empire,  fostered  by  the  benefit 


4  NECKAR    ON    PEACE.  204r 

cent  means  that  are  in  your  hands.  A  good  government  multiplies 
men  as  the  morning  dews  of  the  spring  unfold  the  buds  of  plants. 
Before  you  seek,  tSierefore,  beyond  the  ocean,  for  tliose  new  sub- 
jects which  are  unknown  to  you,  reflect  that,  in  order  to  acquire 
them,  you  are  going  to  sacrifice  a  greater  number  of  those  who 
love  you,  whom  you  love,  whose  fidelity  you  have  experienced, 
and  whose  happiness  is  conmiitted  to  your  protection. 

"  What  personal  motive,  tlien,  can  detemiine  you  to  war  ?  Is  it 
the  splendor  of  victories  for  which  you  hope  ?  Is  it  the  ambition 
of  a  greater  name  in  the  annals  of  mankind  ?  But  is  renown  con- 
fined to  bloodshed  and  devastation  ?  And  is  that  which  a  monarch 
obtains,  by  diffusing  ease  and  happiness  tliroughout  his  dominions, 
unworthy  of  consideration  ?  Titus  reigned  only  three  years  ;  and 
his  name,  transmitted  from  age  to  age  by  the  love  of  nations,  is 
still  introduced  in  all  the  eulogies  of  princes. 

"  Do  not  doubt  it.  Sire,  a  wise  administration  is  of  more  value 
to  you  than  the  most  refined  political  system ;  and  if,  to  such  re- 
sources, you  unite  that  empire  over  other  nations  which  is  acquired 
by  a  transcendent  character  of  justice  and  moderation,  you  will 
enjoy  at  once  the  greatest  glory,  and  the  most  formidalsle  power. 
Ah !  Sire,  exhibit  this  magnificent  spectacle  to  the  world ;  and 
then,  if  triumphal  arches  be  wanting,  ^j^ake  the  tour  of  your  prov- 
inces, and,  preceded  by  all  the  good  you  have  diffused,  appear 
surrounded  by  the  blessings  of  your  people,  and  the  ecstatic  ac- 
clamations of  a  grateful  nation  made  happy  by  its  sovereign." 

Such  would  be  (he  language  of  an  honest  minister ;  nor  can  I 
believe  that  such  reflections  would  be  foreign  to  political  deliber- 
ations. At  first,  they  would  be  thought  extraordinary,  and  the 
minister  who  should  argue  thus,  would  not  be  allowed  the  views 
of  an  enlightened  statesman.  But  the  minister  Avho,  devoid  alike 
of  fear  and  every  selfish  view,  s'lould  dare  to  advance  great  truths, 
might  perhaps  force  his  way  tarough  prejudice,  or  habitual  ideas. 

Ideas  of  this  kind  have  a  most  extensive  influence.     I  cannot  re- 
member without  shuddering,  to  have  seen  the  following  statement, 
in  an  estimate  of  the  money  requisite  for  a  war : 
Forty  thousand  men  to  be  embarked  for  the  colonies  .  .  .  40,000 
To  be  deducted  one-third  for  the  first  year's  mortality .  .  .  13,333 

Remainder  26,667 
A  clerk  in  office  makes  his  calculation  in  cool  blood.  A  minis- 
ter, on  the  perusal,  has  seldom  any  other  idea  than  of  the  expense, 
and  turns  with  unconcern  to  the  next  leaf  for  the  result  of  the  whole. 
How  can  one  here  refrain  from  indulging  very  melancholy  sen- 
sations ?  Alas !  if  by  any  law  of  nature  unknown  to  me,  mankind 
deserved  so  much  indifference,  I  should  be  very  wrong  to  writJ, 
and  to  be  so  earnestly  solicitous  for  their  welfare.  I  should  be 
myself  but  a  vile  heap  of  dust,  which  the  wind  of  life  agitates  for 
a  moment  But  I  entertain  a  more  exalted  idea  of  our  existence, 
and  of  the  spirit  that  informs  it 

Mankind,  say  apologists  for  war,  have  in  every  age  been  accus- 
tomed to  it    Certainly ;  and,  in  every  age  also  have  storma  de- 


205  NECKAR    ON    PEACE.  5 

stroyed  the  harvests;  the  pestilence  has  spread  around  its  en- 
venomed breath ;  intolerance  has  sacrificed  her  victims ;  crimes 
of  every  kind  have  desolated  the  earth.  But  reason  has  also 
obstinately  fought  against  folly,  morality  against  vice,  art  against 
disease,  and  industry  against  the  rigor  of  bad  seasons. 

But  I  hear  it  stated,  as  a  last  objection,  that  men  delight  in  haz- 
ards, and  often  seek  them  of  their  own  accord.  I  allow  it ;  but, 
admitting  that  some  men  have  voluntarily  placed  themselves  in  a 
situation  which  they  know  to  be  exposed  to  calamities,  will  the 
nature  of  these  calamities  be  changed  by  that  consideration  ?  The 
ignorance  of  the  vulgar  is  a  protracted  minority ;  and  in  every  sit- 
uation in  which  they  may  be  impelled  by  circumstances,  neither 
their  first  choice,  nor  their  first  impulse,  is  to  be  considered  in  this 
argument.  We  must  study  their  sentiments  in  those  moments 
when,  distracted  by  a  thousand  excruciating  pains,  yet  still  linger- 
ing in  existence,  they  are  carried  off  in  heaps  from  the  fatal  field 
in  which  they  have  been  mowed  down  by  the  enemy.  We  must 
study  their  sentiments  in  those  noisome  hospitals  in  which  they 
are  crowded  together,  and  where  the  sufferings  they  endure,  to 
preserve  a  languishing  existence,  so  forcibly  prove  the  value 
they  set  upon  the  preservation  of  their  lives,  and  the  greatness  of 
tlie  sacrifice  to  which  they  had  been  exposed.  We  ought  also  to 
study  their  sentiments  in  those  moments  in-  which,  perhaps,  to  such 
a  variety  of  avo,  is  added  the  bitter  remembrance  of  that  momen- 
tary error  which  led  them  to  such  misery.  We  ought,  more 
especially,  to  study  their  sentiments  on  board  those  ships,  on  fire, 
in  which  there  is  but  a  moment  between  them  and  the  most  cruel 
death  ;  and  on  those  ramparts  where  subterraneous  explosion  an- 
nounces, that  in  an  instant  they  are  to  be  buried  under  a  tremen- 
dous heap  of  stones  and  rubbish.  But  the  earth  has  covered  them, 
the  sea  has  swallowed  them  up,  and  we  think  of  them  no  more. 
Their  voice,  extinguished  forever,  can  no  longer  arraign  the 
calamities  of  war.  What  unfeeling  survivors  are  we  !  While 
we  walk  over  mutilated  bodies  and  shattered  bones,  we  exult  in 
the  glory  and  honors  of  which  we  alone  are  the  heirs. 

Let  me  not  be  reproached  with  having  dwelt  too  long  on  these 
melancholy  representations.  We  cannot  exhibit  them  too  often ; 
so  much  are  we  accustomed,  in  the  very  midst  of  society,  to  be- 
hold nothing  in  war,  and  all  its  attendant  horrors,  but  an  honorable 
employment  for  the  courage  of  aspiring  youth,  and  the  school  in 
which  the  talents  of  great  officers  are  unfolded ;  and  such  is  the 
effect  of  this  transient  intoxication,  that  the  conversation  of  the 
polite  circles  in  the  capital  is  often  taken  for  the  general  »wish  of 
the  nation.  Oh !  ye  governors,  do  not  suffer  yourselves  to  be  de- 
ceived by  this  mistaken  voice.  For  my  part,  far  from  regretting 
that  I  have  opposed,  to  the  best  of  my  abilities,  those  chimeras 
which  are  subversive  of  the  happiness  of  mankind,  and  of  the  true 
greatness  of  states ;  far  from  believing  that  I  have  displayed  too 
much  zeal  for  truths  that  are  repugnant  to  so  many  passions  and  ~ 
prepossessions,  I  believe  these  truths  to  be  so  useful,  so  essential, 
and  so  perfectly  just,  that  afler  having  supported  them  by  my 


6  NECKAR    ON    PEACE.  206 

feeble  voice  in  the  course  of  my  administration,  and  endeavored 
even  from  my  retirement  to  diffuse  them  wide,  I  could  wish  that 
the  last  drop  of  my  blood  were  employed  to  trace  them  on  the 
minds  of  all. 

This  subject  is  of  unportance  to  every  nation ;  and  the  spirit  of 
the  reflections  I  have  made,  is  applicable  not  merely  to  the  nations 
whose  interests  are  regulated  by  the  pleasure  of  an  individual.  I 
address  myself  equally  to  you,  Great  Nation  (England)  to  whom 
the  spirit  of  liberty  communicates  all  its  force.  Let  the  energy 
of  your  soul,  let  that  abundance,  or  that  community  of  knowledge 
which  results  from  it,  lead  you  to  those  sentiments  of  political 
humanity  which  ffre  so  well  coimected  with  elevated  tlioughts. 
Be  not  influenced  by  a  blind  avidity  for  riches,  by  the  pride  of 
confidence,  or  a  perpetual  jealousy  of  others ;  and,  since  tlie  waves 
of  the  ocean  free  you  from  the  imperious  yoke  of  disciplined  ar- 
mies, recollect  that  your  first  attention  is  due  to  the  preservation 
of  that  precious  government  you  enjoy.  Tremble,  lest  you  one 
day  become  indifierent  to  it,  if  from  the  excessive  taxes  which  war 
accumulates,  you  expose  to  the  dreadful  conflicts  of  private  in- 
terest, that  public  and  patriotic  sentiment  which  has  so  long  been 
the  source  of  your  greatness  and  your  felicity. 

And  may  you,  young  and  rising  Nation  (United  States  of 
America,)  whose  generous  eflforts  have  released  you  from  your 
European  yoke,  make  the  rights  you  have  acquired  still  more 
respected  through  the  world,  by  employing  yourselves  constantly 
in  promoting  the  public  happiness.  Sacrifice  it  not  to  vague  no- 
tions of  policy,  and  the  deceptive  calculations  of  warlike  ambition. 
Avoid,  if  possible,  the  passions  which  agitate  our  hemisphere ;  and 
long  may  you  preserve  the  simplicity  of  the  primitive  ages. 

What  more  can  be  said  ?  Here  I  should  stop,  for  my  feeble 
voice  is  altogether  unequal  to  so  important  a  subject ;  nevertheless, 
I  venture  once  more  to  solicit  a  moment's  attention.  It  is  in  con- 
siderations of  public  good,  and  just  conceptions  of  true  power,  that 
I  have  hitherto  sought  motives  to  deter  sovereigns  from  war ;  but 
I  should  imperfectly  perform  my  task,  if  I  did  not  endeavor  to  in- 
terest them  in  truths,  the  defence  of  which  I  have  undertaken,  by 
urging  on  them  the  close  connection  of  these  truths  with  their 
personal  happiness. 

How  much  has  ambition,  however  dazzling  and  renowned,  dis- 
quietude and  remorse  for  its  attendants  !  In  the  midst  of  battles 
and  of  ruins ;  in  the  midst  of  heaps  of  cinders,  where  the  flames 
have  destroyed  flourishing  cities ;  from  the  graves  of  that  field 
where  whole  armies  are  buried,  witliout  doubt  a  name  is  raised 
and  commemorated  in  history,  even  tliat  of  a  sovereign  who,  to 
satiate  his  thirst  for  glory,  has  commanded  these  ravages,  haa 
willed  these  desolations.  I  will  depict  to  myself  this  prince  in  the 
zenith  of  his  glory  and  his  triumphs,  and  imagine  iiim  listening  to 
the  flatteries  of  his  courtiers,  and  feeling  intoxicated  witli  tlieir 
praises,  then  retiring  alone,  holding  in  his  hand  the  details  of  a 
battle.  He  reads  attentively  the  recital,  not  as  a  mere  curious 
inquirer  who,  having  notiiing  to  reproach  himself  with,  calmly 


207  NECKAR   ON   PEACE  7 

takes  a  view  of  the  events,  but  as  the  author  of  such  an  accumula- 
tion of  wrongs,  and  of  which  there  is  not  one,  perhaps,  for  which, 
in  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  soul,  his  conscience  does  not  reproach 
him.  He  is  at  the  same  time  on  the  point  of  giving  orders  for  a 
fresh  effusion  of  blood,  of  increasing  the  weight  of  the  taxes,  of 
aggravating  the  misfortunes  of  his  people,  of  laying  his  conquering 
arm  heavily  on  them.  What  distressing  reflections  must  present 
themselves  to  him !  At  this  moment  he  would  fain  recall  the  crowd 
that  had  surrounded  him.  '  Return,' "  he  would  spontaneously  ex- 
claim, '  return,  and  repeat  to  me  all  that  has  even  now  intoxicated 
me.  Alas !  you  are  far  off,  and  I  find  myself  in  a  frightful  desert, 
in  solitude.  I  no  longer  discover  the  traces  of  my  former  senti- 
ments ;  the  light  which  dazzled  me,  is  extinguished ;  my  joy  is 
departed,  and  my  glory  vanished  ! ' 

Such  is  nearly  the  train  of  reflections  that  would  present  them- 
selves to  the  monarch  when  alone.  In  the  mean  time  night  comes 
on,  darkness  and  silence  cover  the  earth,  peace  appears  to  reign 
every  where  except  in  his  breast.  The  plaintive  cries  of  the  dying, 
the  tears  of  ruined  families,  the  various  evils  of  which  he  is  the 
author,  present  themselves  to  his  view,  and  disturb  his  imagination. 
A  dream,  the  noise  of  the  wind,  a  clap  of  thunder,  are  sometimes 
sufficient  to  agitate  him,  and  remind  him  of  his  own  insignificance. 
'  Who  am  I,'  he  is  impelled  to  say,  '  who  am  I,  that  I  should  com- 
mand so  many  ravages,  and  cause  so  many  tears  to  flow  ?  Born 
to  be  the  benefactor,  I  am  the  scourge  of  mankind.  Is  this  the  use 
'  to  which  I  should  appropriate  the  treasures  at  my  disposal,  and  the 
power  with  which  I  am  entrusted  ?  Hereafter  I  shall  have  to  de- 
liver up  an  account ;  and  what  will  this  account  be  ? '  It  is  then 
in  vain  for  him  to  attempt  to  prop  up  his  pride,  and  exculpate 
himself  in  his  own  eyes,  by  presenting  to  the  Supreme  Being  his 
successes  and  his  triumphs;  he  feels  an  invisible  hand  repulsing 
him,  and  apparently  refusing  to  acknowledge  him.  Disturbed  with 
these  cogitations,  he  endeavors  at  last  to  bury  in  sleep  the  mo- 
ments which  thus  annoy  him,  impatient  for  the  dawn  of  day,  for 
the  splendor  of  tlie  court,  and  the  concourse  of  his  servants,  to 
dissipate  his  anguish,  and  restore  to  him  his  illusions. 

Ah  !  wliat  a  different  picture  does  the  life  of  a  beneficent  king 
present !  He  finds  in  the  inclination  of  his  soul  a  continual  source 
of  pleasing  sensations.  The  shadows  of  the  night,  by  gathering 
around  him  consoling  recollections  of  the  past,  enliven  his  retire- 
ment ;  the  concussions  of  agitated  nature,  far  from  disturbing  his 
imagination,  awaken  in  him  ideas  which  sweetly  harmonize  with 
his  feelings ;  the  love  of  mankind  with  which  he  is  smitten,  the 
public  benevolence  with  which  he  is  animated,  that  order  which 
he  has  been  desirous  to  maintain,  recall  to  his  mind  the  most  de- 
lightful recollections.  In  such  a  career,  the  beneficent  king  sees 
his  days  pass  away ;  and,  when  warned  that  the  period  draws  nigh 
m  which  hjs  strength  must  give  way,  he  surveys  with  tranquillity 
this  inevitable  hour,  and  satisfied  with  the  wise  use  he  has  made 
of  his  power,  resigns  himself  to  those  hopes  of  which  virtuous  and 
sensible  souls  alone  are  capable. 


8  NECKAR    ON    PEACE.  208 

How  different  is  the  closing  scene  of  tliat  sovereign  whose 
views  were  influenced  only  by  ambition  and  the  love  of  war !  How 
often  does  this  last  moment  appear  terrible  to  him,  and  of  what 
avail  are  his  most  glorious  exploits  ?  Weighed  down  by  age  and 
sickness,  when  the  shades  of  deatli  surround  him  with  melancholy 
reflections,  does  he  then  command  his  attendants  to  entertain  him 
with  a  recital  of  his  victorious  battles  ?  Does  he  order  those  tro- 
phies to  be  spread  before  him,  on  v/hich  he  might  discern  the  tears 
that  watered  them  ?  No  ;  all  these  ideas  terrify  and  distract  him. 
/  have  been  too  fond  of  war,  was  the  last  speech  of  the  most  power- 
ful of  kings ;  such  were  the  words  he  addressed  to  his  great 
grandson.  Too  late  regret!  which  certainly  did  not  sufiice  to 
calm  the  agitations  of  his  soul !  Ah !  how  much  happier  he  would 
have  been,  if,  after  a  reign  similar  to  tliat  of  Titus  and  Antoninus, 
he  had  been  able  to  say  to  tlie  young  prince,  '  I  have  experienced 
all  sorts  of  pleasures ;  I  have  been  acquainted  witli  all  kinds  of 
glory :  believe  a  dying  king ;  I  have  found  no  real  content  but  in 
3ie  good  I  have  been  able  to  do.  Tread  in  my  steps  ;  entertain 
for  your  people  the  same  tender  affection  I  have  felt  for  them. 
Instead  of  destroying  the  establishments  I  have  formed  for  the 
prosperity  of  the  state ;  instead  of  rejecting  my  principles  of  order 
and  economy ;  instead  of  abolishing  the  laws  I  have  promulgated 
for  the  benefit  of  the  lower  class,  and  the  comfort  of  the  wretched, 
proceed  still  farther,  and  let  our  names,  blended  together,  be  equally 
blessed.  The  only  just  opinion  of  us,  is  that  which  we  leave  be- 
hind ;  the  only  glory,  that  which  remains  attached  to  our  memory. 

'  My  task  is  now  at  an  end,  and  you  are  going  to  begin  yours. 
Ves,  a  moment  longer,  and  those  courtiers  who  surround  me,  will 
attend  on  you ;  a  moment  longer,  and  the  drums  of  the  guards 
will  announce  your  accession,  and  all  the  splendor  of  the  throne 
will  be  displayed  before  your  eyes.  Do  not  suffer  yourself  to  be 
dazzled  by  these  brilliant  seductions  of  the  supreme  rank ;  but 
more  especially  resist  those  wrong  ideas  of  the  greatness  of  kings, 
which  ambitious  or  interested  men  will  endeavor  to  inculcate  on 
you.  You  will  be  rendered  envious  of  the  power  of  other  nations, 
before  you  have  time  to  be  acquainted  with  your  own ;  you  will 
be  urged  to  destroy  their  felicity,  before  you  have  time  to  reflect 
on  the  good  you  may  do  to  your  own  subjects ;  you  will  be  solicited 
to  overturn  the  peace  of  the  world,  before  you  have  secured  the 
maintenance  of  order  within  your  own  kingdom ;  and  you  will  be 
inspired  with  the  desire  of  increasing  your  dominions,  before  you 
have  even  ascertained  what  cares  and  informations  are  necessary 
to  govern  with  prudence  the  smallest  of  your  provinces.  Mistrust 
all  those  measures  with  which  tliey  attempt  to  make  sovereigns 
forget,  not  only  the  limits  of  their  faculties,  but  the  shortness  of 
their  life,  and  every  thing  that  they  have  in  common  with  other 
men.  Stay  by  me  a  little  longer,  my  son !  to  learn  that  the  sove- 
reign of  a  most  powerful  empire  vanishes  from  tlie  earth  with  less 
noise  than  a  leaf  falls  from  the  tree,  or  a  light  is  extinguishjed.' 

AMERICAN   PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


ci;  ^ 

No.  XXVII. 
PEACE    PRACTICABLE. 


Setting  aside  persons  who  hold  political  or  military  office,  or 
who  by  their  connection  with  government  are  led  to  imagine  they 
have  an  interest  in  war,  it  is  believed  there  are  few  intelligent 
or  benevolent  men  who  now  advocate  that  cruel  practice  as  a 
good  in  itself  or  its  results  ;  but  there  are  many  sincere  philan- 
thropists, who,  fully  perceiving  the  vast  amount  of  suffering  and 
corruption  caused  by  this  custom,  believing  such  calamity  to  be 
unalleviated,  and  uncompensated  by  any  resulting  good,  and  earn- 
estly desiring  the  extinction  of  Avar,  still  doubt  the  practicability 
of  that  extinction  by  any  means  in  the  power  of  the  friends  of 
peace  to  apply. 

First,  it  is  objected  that  the  magnitude  of  the  evil  is  such 
as  to  be  irremovable  by  private  effort.  The  insatiable  ambition, 
the  pride  of  honor,  fancied  interest,  and  deep-rooted  customs 
of  nations,  the  enthusiastic  canonization  of  warriors,  the  bril- 
liant examples  of  classic  history,  the  flattering  voice  of  poetry, 
the  splendor  of  monumental  arts,  the  chivalry  of  patriotism,  and 
the  imposing  fascinations  of  military  display,  all  combine  to  drown 
the  still  small  voice  of  humanity, — altogether  form  an  overwhelm- 
ing power,  against  which  individual  or  associated  philanthropy 
must  strive  in  vain.  What  can  a  few  peace  societies  and  their 
friends  effect  against  the  gigantic  pride  and  customs  of  sovereign 
rulers  and  the  political  world  ? 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  men, — even  intelligent  and 
considerate  men, — make  an  objection  like  this ;  for  the  world  has 
hitherto  seemed  to  be  governed  or  revolutionized  by  force ;  and 
they  are  naturally  incredulous  of  any  important  change  without 
the  perception  of  physical  power  to  effect  it.  But  it  is  overlooked, 
that  many  of  the  most  signal  revolutions  of  the  globe  have  origi- 
nated in  some  new  or  disregarded  principle, — religious,  moral  or 
political, — brought  out  by  some  obscure,  perhaps  despised  individ- 
uals, which  afterwards  proved  to  be  the  actuating  soul  of  the 
great  physical  movement.  Such  was  the  case  with  the  Crusades, 
the  Reformation,  the  discovery  of  America,  the  American  and 
French  Revolutions.  The  most  remarkable  revolution  of  the 
earth  was  the  promulgation  of  Christianity  by  a  few  fishermen  of 
Galilee,  and  their  associates,  changing  the  religion  and  moral 
habits  of  a  large  portion  of  the  civilized  world.  It  may  be  thought 
that  this  should  not  be  adduced  as  an  instance,  as  it  was  under 
the  special  and  miraculous  direction  of  the  Most  High ;  but  we 
are  taught  that  all  events  are,  in  reality,  guided  by  his  Provi- 
dence ;  and,  if  the  progress  of  peace  principles  is  predicted,  and 
their  promotion  enjoined  by  this  revelation,  there  is  as  much  rea- 

P.*  T.       NO.  XXVII. 


2  PEACE    PRACTICABLE.  210 

son  to  expect  his  divine  aid  in  their  extension,  as  in  that  of  the 
gospel,  of  which  it  forms  so  essential  a  part. 

Again,  it  should  be  recollected,  that  under  the  perpetual  advance 
of  Christianity  and  civilization,  mere  physical  power  is  every  where 
losing,  and  moral  power  gaining  social  and  political  influence.  In 
former  ages,  it  might  perhaps  be  said,  that  before  the  proud  thrones 
or  passion-led  multitudes  of  the  world,  moral  effort  would  avail 
but  little  in  presenting  truth,  or  advocating  humanity.  Already 
has  tiie  religious  and  intellectual  change  been  such,  that  no  op- 
pressive abuse  of  physical  power  can  be  long  continued  in  face  of 
the  unequivocal  rebuke  of  religious  enthusiasm,  or  philosophical 
philanthropy  ;  and  under  tlie  obvious  progress  of  society  we  have 
every  promise  that  the  claims  of  enlightened  benevolence  n«ist  be 
heard,  and  will  be  effectual.  But  the  friends  of  universal  peace, 
if  guided  by  truth,  and  warmed  with  zeal,  are  plainly  possessed  of 
a  moral  influence  superior  to  tlie  poAver  of  brute  force,  however 
imposing ;  and,  if  efficiently  sustained  by  those  who  are  in  senti- 
ment Avith  them,  so  that  they  could  bring  all  the  religious  and 
benevolent  of  the  civilized  world  into  an  united,  energetic  protest 
against  the  practice  of  war,  neitlier  despotism,  nor  custom,  nor 
chivalric  delusion,  could  withstand  it ;  the  pride  of  the  martial 
world  must  bend  before  the  frown  of  Christian  reproof  Let  us 
not,  then,  in  timid  distrust  of  moral  power,  witlihold  it.  Give  it 
in  sanguine  faith,  and  it  will  be  decisively  victorious. 

But  we  meet  witli  a  more  serious  objection  to  specific  efforts 
for  the  cause  of  peace,  among  those  religious  and  enlightened 
men  on  whom  our  chief  reliance  is  placed  as  instruments  of  the 
cause.  They  doubt  not  the  power  of  Christianity  to  overthrow 
the  power  of  war ;  but  they  consider  the  process  proposed  on  tliis 
subject  as  wrong  in  its  order ;  general  Christian  faith  must  pre- 
cede it  "  Make  men  Christians,"  tliey  say,  "  and  universal  peace 
will  follow."  They  have  no  expectation  that  peace  principles  will 
ever  be  received,  until  Christianity,  as  they  understand  it,  is  made 
to  prevail  in  the  world ;  and  they  accordingly  think  time  and 
money  wasted  in  any  previous  attempts  to  diffuse  them.  And  yet 
a  little  attention  will  make  it  plain,  that  the  whole  strengtli  of  this 
objection  lies  in  its  ambiguity ;  an  examination  of  what  is  here 
meant  by  Christianity,  will  dissipate  it  If  a  Christianity  is  made 
to  prevail  over  the  world  which  involves  the  doctrines  of  forbear- 
ance and  peace  as  essential  elements,  undoubtedly  the  prevalence 
of  such  a  Christianity  would  forever  extinguish  war  ;  and  the 
course  of  the  peace-makers  is  precisely  that  which  the  objectors 
would  desire,  but  which  they  refuse  to  aid  ;  for  these  peace-makers 
strive  to  engraft  this  very  feature  inseparably  on  Christianity,  and 
may  be  considered  as  missionaries  of  that  religion  in  its  g^uine 
pacific  form. 

But  the  objectors  have  not  in  mind  this  idea  of  Christianity  in 
making  the  objection ;  they  mean  Christianity  as  each  under- 
stands it,  according  to  the  doctrines  laid  down  by  his  sect  or  de- 
nomination respectively,  in  few  of  which,  (with  the  exception  of 


211  peacf/  practicable.  3 

the  Friends  and  Moravians,)  is  the  peace  principle  included  as 
fundamental.  The  extension  of  such  a  Christianity  will  never 
produce  peace.  History  is  full  of  instances  of  pious  and  devoted 
men,  under  every  form  of  religious  faith,  who  have  not  only  sanc- 
tioned, but  participated  in,  the  revolting  violence  and  cruelties  of 
war.  No  one  will  call  in  question  the  religious  character  of  the 
early  fathers  of  the  church,  the  reformers  with  Luther,  the  Cov- 
enanters of  Scotland,  or  the  pilgrims  who  landed  on  the  Rock  of 
Plymouth.  Perhaps  even  the  crusaders  to  Palestine,  the  German 
invaders  of  Saxony,  and  the  Spanish  conquerors  of  South  Ameri- 
ca, may  he  alloAved  to  have  been  actuated  by  a  sincere  faith  in 
what  they  received  as  Christianity  ;  but  in  none  of  these  instances 
or  similar  ones  which  history  records,  has  the  aspect  of  the  Cross, 
in  any  of  its  varied  lights,  obliterated  the  heathen  spirit  of  Mars ; 
and  what  reason  is  there  to  believe  that  any  view  of  Christianity, 
which  includes  not  its  peace  principle  as  essential,  whatever  as- 
cendency it  may  gain,  will  ever  spread  over  the  future  a  for- 
bearing tranquillity  which  it  has  always  failed  to  do  in  the  fairest 
trials  of  the  past  ?  The  true  teachers  of  Christianity  then,  arc  the 
peace-makers.  They  alone  preach  a  gospel  from  which  peace  can 
spring  forth.  They  alone  exhibit  its  love  in  connection  with  its  faith. 

Another  objection  to  the  practicability  of  peace  efforts  comes 
from  a  numerous  class,  confiding  less  in  the  power  of  Christianity. 
The  war-spirit  is  said  to  be  ineradicable,  as  founded  in  nature. 
All  brute  animals  are  by  instinct  prone  to  violence  and  conflict, 
and  human  beings  have  been  engaged  in  war  and  bloodshed  from 
the  earliest  ages,  and  in  every  realm-  War  must,  then,  ever  con- 
tinue, while  man  retains  his  present  passions  ;  and  his  race  must 
be  miraculously  changed  in  nature,  or  extirpated  from  the  earth, 
for  a  new  creation,  before  peace  can  dwell  over  its  extensive 
sphere.  We  then  strive  to  counteract  the  laws  of  Providence, 
when  we  oppose  war ;  every  generation  must  pass  through  its 
bloody  trials,  and  look  to  a  future  life  for  a  regenerated,  pacific 
constitution. 

The  fact  of  the  universal  custom  of  conflict,  brutal  and  human, 
is  indisputable  ;  that  in  brutes  it  is  founded  in  their  unalterable 
nature,  will  not  be  questioned  ;  but  when  this  law  is  applied  also 
to  man,  the  whole  truth  is  not  shown  ;  it  is  forgotten  that  man  has 
higher  and  freer  impulses,  which  counteract  and  modify  his  ani- 
mal nature.  His  calculating  reason,  and  penetrating  foresight  of 
consequences,  direct  his  very  passions  to  an  action,  by  which  their 
present  gratification  is  sacrificed  to  future  good.  Moral  princi- 
ple^  too,  is  perceived  by  his  mind,  and  an  instinct,  nobler  than  the 
animal,  bends  him  into  obedience  to  it.  Man,  by  nature,  is  ac- 
quisitive and  grasping ;  and  yielding  only  to  this  nature,  the  world 
would  be  a  universal  scene  of  robbery  and  plunder.  Civiliza- 
tion, pointing  through  experience  to  general  good,  has  brought 
him  under  laws  which  respect  the  right  of  property,  and  induce 
scruples  of  honesty,  restricting  desire  where  no  punishment  would 
follow  its  violation.     Man,  naturally,  is  indolent  and  self-indul- 


4  *'     PEitCE^RACTICABLE.  212 

gent;  the  view  of  future  melioration  rouses  his  energy,  sloth  is 
shaken  off,  self-denial  practised,  and  active  enterprises  undertaken, 
which  ultimately  lead  to  exertions  and  privations  for  the  good  of 
others.  Naturally,  man  is  ambitious  and  despotic  ;  how  seldom  is 
the  person  seen,  who  do«s  njit  love  to  rule  ;  but  civilization  again 
has  induced  a  general  r^peot  for  equal  rights,  and  the  thrones  of 
despotism  are  fast  sinking  tfefore  the  rising  claims  of  universal 
freedom. 

Now,  enlightened  interest^  justice  and  humanity,  all  plead 
strongly  for  tlie  abolition  of  w^.  They  call  on  man  to  modify  his 
nature  for  peace,  as  he  has  done  for  other  blessings.  Christianity 
enforces  this  demand  with  higher  authority,  and  still  more  im- 
posing motives ;  and,  if  his  animal  nature  has  given  way  before 
"weaker  impulses  for  otlier  objects^  there  can  be  no  reason  to  de- 
spair of  a  conquest  over  it  in  this  case,  when  all  the  lights  of  rea- 
son, humanity  and  religion  are  made  to  bear  u}X)n  it,  and  in  full 
view,  aU  the  horrors,  depravities  and  sufferings  of  war,  and  the  rich 
blessings  of  unbroken  peace,  are  duly  presented  and  appreciated. 

If  it  is  still  objected  that  these  reasonings  are  merely  theoretical, 
and  ought  to  be  sustained  by  facts,  the  reply  is,  that  ultimate  facts 
are,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  future ;  but  the  progress  already 
made  in  this  cause  is  a  full  warrant  of  its  practicability.  This 
progress  is  seen  in  the  collected  testimonies  of  the  most  eminent 
statesm  jn  in  Europe  and  America  to  their  desire  and  expectation 
of  ur^versal  peace.  It  is  seen  in  the  altered  tone  of  the  literary 
and  political  press,  now  ever  deprecating  war^  in  the  evident  re- 
luctance of  civilized  governments  to  this  cruel  resort,  so  that  irri- 
tating collisions,  which  formerly  would  have  kindled  immediate 
hostility,  are  now  (1845)  settled  by  compromise,  and  in  the  conse- 
quent prevalence  of  peace  for  the  last  thirty  years  ;  but  above  all 
in  the  fact,  that  proposals  made  for  arbitration  or  a  permanent 
Congress  to  settle  international  disputes,  are  every  M-here  received 
with  favor,  both  by  rulers  and  people,  and  believed  by  many  to  be 
safe  and  adequate  substitutes  for  the  dreadful  appeal  to  tlie  sword. 
And  these  circumstances  may  be  all  traced  to  the  action  of  the 
associated  friends  of  peace. 

These  replies  are  offered  to  the  consideration  of  intelligent  men, 
who  entertain  the  objections  stated.  To  the  confiding  Christian 
who  relies  on  the  revealed  will  of  God,  a  decisive  answer  can  be 
made  to  every  discouraging  argument  God  has,  by  his  prophets, 
declared  there  shall  be  a  reign  of  universal  peace,  when  men  shall 
beat  their  swords  into  plough-shares,  their  spears  into  pruning- 
hooks,  and  shall  learn  war  no  more.  Christ  has  enjoined,  with 
peculiar  emphasis  and  repetition,  that  forbearing  love  from  which 
peace  must  necessarily  result  These  predictions  and  injunctions 
are  the  warrant  of  the  peace-makers.  Fortified  with  these,  they 
are  assured  they  shall  not  labor  in  vain  ;  they  see  in  them  certain 
pledges  of  divine  assistance,  and  ultimate  success. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


til 

No.  xxvin. 

SUBSTITUTES    FOR  WAR. 


War  is  now  tolerated  only  as  a  necessary  evil ;  but  there  is 
in  truth  no  more  necessity  for  it  than  there  is  for  duelling,  the 
slave-trade,  or  any  other  species  of  folly  or  crime.  War 
comes  solely  from  the  wrong  choice  of  men ;  that  choice  may 
be  changed ;  and  whenever  it  shall  be,  nations,  like  individ- 
uals, will  find  other  methods  for  the  settlement  of  their  dis- 
putes, far  better  than  the  sword  for  all  purposes  of  protection 
and  redress. 

I.  The  first  substitute,  then,  would  be  negotiation.  So 
long  as  nations  keep  cool  and  kind  enough  to  adjust  their  own 
difficulties,  this  method  is  decidedly  the  best  of  all.  If  the 
code  of  national  honor  did  not  goad  them  at  once  into  blood ; 
if  they  made  the  sword  really  their  last  resort,  instead  of  their 
first ;  if  popular  sentiment  should  always  hold  them  back  from 
conflict  till  mutual  forbearance,  explanation  and  concession 
nad  exhausted  their  utmost  power,  this  expedient  alone  would, 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  prevent  an  appeal  to  arms. 

II.  Should  this  expedient  fail,  our  next  resort  would  be  to 
ARBITRATION  ;  a  Substitute  adopted  when  the  parties  are  un- 
able to  adjust  their  own  difficulties,  or  prefer  the  decision  of  an 
umpire  mutually  chosen.  Better  for  the  parties  to  agree  among 
themselves,  if  they  can ;  but,  if  they  cannot,  we  wish  nations  in 
every  case  to  settle  their  disputes  as  individuals  do  theirs,  by 
some  mode  of  reference.  We  urge  this  as  an  established, 
permanent  principle.  Nations  should,  in  accordance  with 
the  recommendation  of  the  First  General  Peace  Convention 
in  London,  1843,  incorporate  in  every  treaty  a  clause  binding 
the  parties  to  adjust  whatever  differences  may  arise  between 
them,  not  by  the  sword,  but  by  reference  to  umpires  mutually 
chosen,  and  agree  to  abide  by  their  decision,  and  to  claim,  if 
dissatisfied,  only  the  privilege  of  renewing  or  changing  the 
reference. 

To  such  a  substitute,  what  objection  can  be  urged  ?  It  re- 
linquishes no  right ;  it  sacrifices  no  interest ;  it  would  startle 
feAv,  if  any  prejudices ;  it  can  offend  neither  the  strong  nor 
the  moderate  peace-man,  neither  the  Quaker  nor  the  warrior ; 
it  is  adapted  to  the  present  state  of  the  world,  and  consis- 
tent alike  with  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  and  the  dictates  of 
sound  policy ;  a  measure  level  to  the  comprehension  of  all, 
and  commei^ding  itself  to  their  common  sense   as  simple, 

p.  T.       NO.  XXVIIl 


S  SUBSTITUTES    FOR   WAR.  214 

feasible,  and  likely  to  prove  successful.  Nor  is  the  principle 
new,  but  as  old  as  human  society ;  it  lies  at  the  bottom  of 
every  trial  in  our  courts ;  we  often  find  the  wisest  and  best 
men  preferring  it  in  their  own  case  even  to  a  regular  course 
of  law ;  and  we  merely  ask  nations  to  use  the  same  degree  of 
justice,  candor  and  good  sense  in  adjusting  their  difficulties, 
that  individuals  do  in  theirs.     Can  they  not  do  so? 

ni.  Should  both  these  expedients  fail,  we  should  still  have 
in  reserve  tlie  principle  of  mediation.  When  rulers  become 
80  exasperated  against  each  other,  as  to  withdraw  from  official 
intercourse,  and  the  strange,  semi-barbarous  code  of  national 
honor  requires  tliem  to  keep  aloof,  or  to  meet  only  on  the 
field  of  battle,  a  tliird  power  friendly  to  both,  interposes  with 
the  ofier  of  its  services  as  mediator ;  such  services  the  parties 
are  now  bound  in  courtesy  to  accept ;  and  this  simple  expe- 
dient, a  new  development  of  the  pacific  tendencies  of  the  age, 
promises  to  obviate  the  most  delicate  and  difficult  cases  of 
misunderstanding.  It  is  well  known  that  duellists  cannot 
fight  so  long  as  a  mutual  friend  stands  between  them  as 
mediator ;  and,  if  so  effectual  for  the  prevention  of  duels,  the 
principle,  equally  applicable  to  war,  would  be  likely  to  prove 
still  more  successful  here,  from  the  longer  delay  necessary, 
from  the  greater  publicity  of  the  transaction,  and.  from  the 
overwhelming  majority  on  both  sides  interested  in  a  peaceful 
issue  of  the  dispute.  Thus  might  a  single  cabinet,  by  the 
well-timed  tender  of  its  services,  hold  in  check  the  war-spirit 
of  the  whole  civilized  world,  and  keep  its  nations  in  perma- 
nent peace.  Not  unfrequently  has  this  expedient  been  em- 
ployed since  the  downfall  of  Napoleon ;  and  every  one  can 
remember  with  what  speedy  and  signal  success,  England 
alone  acted,  in  the  course  of  only  a  few  years,  as  mediator  be- 
tween France  and  ourselves,  between  Holland  and  Belgium, 
between  Sweden  and  France,  and  between  France  and  Swit- 
zerland. It  is  a  new  antidote  to  war,  and  may  do  much  to 
insure  the  steady  and  lasting  peace  of  Christendom. 

IV.  But  the  perfection  of  all  substitutes  for  war,  would  be 
a  CONGRESS  or  NATIONS.  By  this  we  mean  a  congress,  or 
meeting  in  convention,  of  as  many  nations  as  could  be  brought 
into  the  measure,  to.  agree  upon  a  full  code  of  international 
law,  and  next  a  High  Court  of  Nations,  or  board  of  interna- 
tional arbitrators,  to  interpret  and  apply  that  code,  to  adjudi- 
cate whatever  cases  might  be  referred  to  them  by  consent  of 
parties,  and  to  act  for  tlie  great  brotherhood  of  nations  as  tlie 
guardian  of  tlioir  common  rights  and  interests.  It  would  per- 
form for  nations  substantially  tlie  same  services"  that  a  civil 
tribunal  does  for  individuals,  or  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States  does  for  the  diflTerent  States  in  our  confederacy. 


215  SUBSTITUTES    FOR    WAR.  3 

It  would  have  no  right  to  touch  any  case  not  voluntarily  re- 
ferred to  it  by  the  nations  in  dispute ;  and  all  its  decisions 
would  be  merely  advisory,  and  become  binding  only  by  the 
consent  of  each  party,  and  efficacious  solely  by  the  force  of 
public  opinion  in  their  favor.  There  would  be  at  its  com- 
mand no  fleets,  no  armies,  no  power  whatever  besides  the  in- 
fluence of  its  own  reputation,  the  voice  of  the  civilized  world, 
tmd  perhaps  an  application  in  extreme  cases  of  peaceful  pen- 
alties, to  awe  refractory  states  into  acquiescence.  An  expe- 
dient founded  on  the  very  same  principle  with  our  codes  and 
courts  of  law ;  an  expedient  as  old,  in  one  form  or  another, 
as  civil  government  or  human  society  ;  an  expedient  just  as 
applicable  to  nations  as  to  individuals,  and  likely,  if  once 
established,  and  used  aright,  to  prove  as  successful  in  the 
former  case  as  it  has  in  the  latter ;  an  expedient  that  could 
certainly  do  no  harm,  and  might  suffice  at  once  to  prevent 
forty-nine  wars  in  fifty,  and  eventually  supersede  forever  the 
whole  war-system.  * 

Here,  then,  are  four  substitutes  for  war,  each  simple,  easy 
and  effective  ;  substitutes  which  every  man  of  the  least  sense 
or  candor  must  admit  to  be  infinitely  better  than  an  appeal  to 
the  savage  argument  of  lead  and  steel;  substitutes  which 
recognize  right  instead  of  might,  reason  in  place  of  brute 
force,  as  the  arbiter  of  national  disputes ;  substitutes  which 
nations  could,  if  tliey  would,  adopt  in  part,  without  delay,  and 
ere-long,  the  whole  of  them  ;  substitutes  which  would  at  once 
supersede  every  plea  of  necessity  for  war,  insure  far  more 
justice  in  the  intercourse  of  nations,  and  guaranty  in  due 
time  their  permanent  peace  and  prosperity. 

Now,  we  insist  on  the  duty  of  nations  to  adopt  such  substi- 
tutes as  these.  If  they  are  moral  agents  like  individuals,  they 
are  equally  bound  to  an  amicable,  bloodless  adjustment  of 
their  difficulties ;  and,  if  war  is  held  by  none  to  be  justifiable 
except  as  a  last  resort,  and  should  never  be  employed  till  after 
all  other  expedierts  have  failed,  then  must  nations,  on  the 
lowest  principles  of  peace  or  common  sense,  abstain  from  the 
sword  until  they  have  not  only  tried  in  good  faith  negotiation, 
reference  and  mediation,  but  established  a  congress  of  na- 
tions, and  submitted  their  disputes  to  its  high  and  impartial 
arbitrament.  All  this  they  can  do,  if  they  urill ;  and,  until 
they  do  it,  how  can  war  be  called  their  last  resort  ? 

'  But  nations  have  no  common  judge,  and  hence  they  must 
decide  each  its  own  case.' — True,  they  have  at  present  no 
such  judge  ;  but  they  might  have,  if  they  would ;  and  we  call 
upon  them  by  every  motive  of  reason,  duty  and  self-interest, 
to  establish  one  as  soon  as  possible. 

'  Meanwhile,  however,  what  shall  settle  their  disputes  ? ' — 


4  SUBSTITUTES    FOR  WAR.  216 

Surely  not  the  sword,  but  some  one  of  the  substitutes  we 
have  proposed.  War  settle  disputes !  Never !  The  parties 
invariably  sheatli  the  sword  before  they  dream  of  a  settle- 
ment, and  then  despatch,  not  men  of  blood  to  fight,  but  men 
of  peace,  plenipotentiaries,  to  negotiate.  And  why  not  do 
this  before  fighting,  and  thus  obviate  all  necessity  of  war.? 
We  had  a  controversy  with  England  about  our  north-eastern 
boundary  ;  and,  had  we  gone  to  war,  would  that  have  settled 
the  dispute?  No;  it  would  only  have  aggravated  its  diffi- 
culties. There  is  no  logic  in  bullets  and  bomb-shells ;  the 
butchery  of  millions  on  the  disputed  territory  could  not  have' 
thrown  a  single  ray  of  new  light  on  the  points  in  controversy ; 
and,  after  wasting  myriads  of  treasure,  and  shedding  oceans 
of  blood,  we  should  have  been  obliged  to  employ  for  tlie  final 
adjustment  the  very  same  pacific  means  that  might  have  been 
used  even  more  successfully  before  the  war  than  after  it. 

*  True,  if  the  parties  were  willing  ;  but  can  you  make  them 
willing  before  they  have  fought  awhil^?' — Yes,  we  could,  if 
we  would ;  but  how  little  effort  is  made  for  peace  in  compar- 
ison with  Avhat  must  be  for  war  ?  No  tAvo  nations  could  begin 
a  war  in  earnest  without  sacrificing,  in  one  way  and  another, 
scores  of  millions  ;  but  a  tenth  or  even  a  hundredth  part  as 
much,  if  wisely  spent  in  the  use  of  moral  means  for  the  pur- 
pose, would  form  such  a  public  sentiment,  that  no  power  on 
earth  could  goad  tlie  parties  into  conflict — Unwilling  for  a 
peacefiil  adjustment ! — who  is  unwilling?  Am  I  ?  Are  you  ? 
We  resent  the  charge  ;  and,  should  you  go  through  both  coun- 
tries, you  would  find  scarce  a  man  that  would  not  profess  to 
be  equally  anxious  for  a  bloodless  issue  of  the  dispute. 

'  Perhaps  the  people  are  willing ;  but  the  nders  are  not' — 
Rulers  not  willing ! — why  not  ?  Because  the  people  do  not 
call  loud  enough  for  a  peaceful  settlement  Rulers  will 
, generally  go  either  for  peace  or  for  war,  just  as  the  people  go ; 
Siey  can,  if  they  will,  settle  their  disputes  without  war,  quite 
as  well  as  individuals  can  theirs  without  duels ;  they  loUl  do 
so,  whenever  the  people  shall  come  every  wliere  to  demand  it 
aright;  the  people  icill  thus  demand  it,  whenever  they  shall 
be  duly  enlightened  on  the  subject ;  and  hence  do  we  urge 
the  pulpit  and  the  press,  every  sect  in  religion,  and  every 
party  in  politics,  all  Christians,  philanthropists  and  patriots, 
to  unite  in  filling  every  community  with  such  an  abhorrence 
of  war,  and  such  strong  desires  for  peace,  as  shall  hereafter 
constrain  rulers  to  employ  pacific  expedients  alone  for  the 
settlement  of  all  national  disputes. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS 


JVo.  XXIX, 
ARBITRATION, 

AS    A    SUBSTITUTE    FOR    WAR. 


ADDRESSED   ESPECIALLY   TO    RULERS. 


The  evils  of  war  are  coming  to  be  more  generally  known, 
and  more  deeply  felt  than  in  ages  past.  Its  suspension  or  de- 
rangement of  business  ; — its  havoc  of  life  and  property ; — its 
crippling  of  agriculture,  manufactures,  and  the  various  arts 
that  minister  to  individual  and  national  prosperity  ; — the  ob- 
structions it  opposes  to  commerce,  to  travel,  and  every  kind  of 
useful  intercourse  between  nations  ; — its  baneful  influence  on 
morality  and  religion,  on  the  cause  of  liberty  and  popular  im- 
provement, on  the  various  enterprises  now  in  progress  for  the 
welfare  and  redemption  of  our  whole  race,  on  the  dearest  in- 
terests of  mankind  for  time  and  eternity  ;  all  these  and  many 
other  results  of  this  custom  are  rapidly  conspiring  more  and 
more  to  make  every  good  man  deplore  it  as  a  terrible  scourge, 
and  earnestly  desire  its  speedy,  universal  abolition. 

Such  views  are  no  longer  confined  to  peace  societies  ;  but 
the  mass  of  the  people,  wherever  enlightened  on  the  subject, 
and  free  to  utter  their  sentiments,  are  beginning  to  call  for 
peace.  It  is  fast  becoming  the  popular  demand  of  the  age, 
the  cry  of  millions  sighing  for  relief.  They  begin  to  dis- 
cover in  war  the  source  of  tlieir  worst  evils.  It  is  the  origin 
and  support  of  the  tyranny  that  rules  them  with  a  rod  of  iron  ; 
■  its  enormous  burdens  have  long  been  grinding  them  into  the 
dust  all  over  the  old  world ;  5ie  war-debts  of  Europe  alone, 
secured  by  mortgage  upon  their  bones  and  sinews,  exceed  by 
far  the  entire  amount  of  specie  now  on  the  globe  ;  more  than 
four-fiflhs  of  all  their  taxes  go  to  pay  the  interest  on  these 
debts,  and  to  maintain  even  in  peace  some  three  millions  of 
standing  warriors  as  moths  on  the  community ;  and,  when 
they  remember  how  many  centuries  this  monster  has  revelled 
in  their  blood,  and  how  often  it  has  plundered  and  burnt  their 
cities,  and  laid  waste  their  villages,  and  trampled  down  their 
harvests,  and  desolated  their  peaceful  homes,  and  butchered 
their  sons  upon  the  battle-field,  and  subjected  their  wives  and 
daughters  to  a  fate  still  more  deplorable,  can  we  wonder,  that 
the  people,  always  the  chief  sufferers  from  war,  are  at  length 
demanding  of  their  rulers  to  obviate  its  alleged  necessity  by 
the  adoption  of  other  means  than  the  sword  for  the  settlement 
of  national  disputes  ? 

p.  T.       NO.   XXIX. 


2  ARBITRATION,  AS    A  218 

Nor  is  this  demand  unreaBonable.  Rulers  could,  if  they 
would,  adjust  their  difficulties,  and  regulate  the  entire  inter- 
course of  nations,  without  war.  There  is  no  real  need  of  this 
custom ;  and,  were  they  so  disposed,  they  could  supersede  it 
at  once  and  forever  by  substitutes  far  better  thao  lead  and 
steel.  They  compel  tlie  people  to  settle  their  quarrels  without 
bloodshed ;  and  we  see  not  with  what  sort  of  consistency 
they  can  require  or  permit  the  wholesale  butchery  of  their 
subjects  in  war  for  the  adjustment  of  differences  in  which  the 
combatants  themselves  have  no  personal  concern.  It' is  a 
cruel  outrage  upon  tlie  people,  as  well  as  a  bitter  mockery  of 
common  sense ;  and  it  is  quite  time  tliis  foul  stain  were  wiped 
from  the  escutcheon  of  Christendom  forever. 

And  can  it  not  be  done  ?  Yes,  witli  ease  and  safety.  Do 
you  ask  how  ?  We  might  suggest  a  variety  of  feasible  and 
efficient  methods ;  but  we  now  restrict  ourselves  to  one  which 
relinquishes  no  right,  and  sacrifices  no  interest,  contravenes 
no  important  principle,  and  startles  few,  if  any  prejudices ;  a 
measure  adapted  to  the  present  state  of  the  world,  and  con- 
sistent with  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  and  the  dictates  of 
sound  policy ;  a  measure  level  to  tlie  comprehension  of  all, 
and  commending  itself  to  their  common  sense  ;  simple,  prac- 
ticable, and  likely  to  prove  successful.  It  is  arbitration  as 
a  recognized  substitute  for  loar.  Better  to  agree  among  them- 
selves, if  they  can,  without  the  intervention  of  a  third  party ; 
but,  if  they  cannot,  we  wish  nations  in  every  case  to  settle 
their  difficulties,  as  individuals  in  society  do  theirs,  by  some 
form  of  reference.  The  method  we  propose  has  been  occa- 
sionally employed ;  but  we  urge  its  adoption  as  an  established, 
permanent  principle.  We  would  have  nations  incorporate  in 
every  treaty  a  clause  binding  the  parties,  as  their  last  resort, 
to  adjust  whatever  differences  may  arise  between  them,  not  by 
an  appeal  to  arms,  but  by  reference  to  umpires  mutually 
chosen.  The  arrangements  for  this  purpose  might  safely  be 
left  in  every  case  to  the  contracting  parties ;  but  they  should 
invariably  bind  themselves  in  good  faith  to  abide  by  the  de- 
cision of  their  referees,  and  claim,  if  dissatisfied,  only  the 
privilege  of  renewing  or  changing  the  reference. 

Here  is  the  outline  of  our  plan.  It  speaks  for  itself,  and 
may  seem  too  clear  to  require  either  argument  or  illustration. 
Common  sense  decides,  that  no  man  should  be  allowed  to 
judge  in  his  own  case  ;  and  this  principle  is  quite  as  applica- 
ble to  communities  as  to  individuals.  The  former,  equally 
liable  to  all  the  influences  that  bias  the  judgment,  and  lead 
to  wrong  conclusions,  should  never  be  permitted,  any  more 
than  individuals,  to  act  as  witness,  jury  and  judge  in  their  own 


219  SUBSTITUTE    FOR   WAR.  3 

case.  The  voice  of  common  sense,  in  every  age  and  clime, 
cries  out  against  it  as  manifestly  wrong,  and  demands,  that 
parties  in  dispute,  whether  individuals  or  communities,  should 
in  the  last  resort  leave  their  differences  to  impartial  judges. 
This  is  all  we  ask.  Nations  are  only  large  communities; 
and  we  insist  merely  on  their  adopting  this  simple,  equitable 
principle  for  the  settlement  of  their  difficulties. 

Nor  is  this  principle  new  or  untried.  It  is  as  old  as  human 
society  ;  it  has  been  acted  upon  more  or  less  from  the  earliest 
dawn  of  civilization  ;  we  oflen  find  the  wisest  and  best  men 
preferring  it  even  to  a  regular  course  of  law  for  the  amicable 
adjustment  of  their  own  differences ;  and  we  simply  ask,  that 
nations  should  exercise  an  equal  degree  of  sense,  candor  and 
justice,  by  referring  their  disputes  in  like  manner  to  compe- 
tent and  impartial  arbiters. 

The  same  principle  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  our  courts. 
Every  trial  in  them  is  a  reference.  No  litigant  is  allowed  to 
decide,  or  even  to  testify  in  his  own  case ;  but  he  must, 
whether  willing  or  unwilling,  submit  to  the  judgment  of  his 
peers^on  the  testimony  of  credible  witnesses.  Nor  has  he 
any  direct  voice  in  the  selection  of  his  arbiters  ;  society 
chooses  them  for  him;  and  before  a  judge  and  jury  thus  ap- 
pointed, he  is  compelled  to  go,  and  abide  their  decision. 
Such  is  the  ordinary  course  of  justice,  the  common,  legal 
mode  of  reference  ;  and  ought  not  governments,  in  the  adjust- 
ment of  their  difficulties,  to  act  on  principles  as  equitable  and 
elevated  as  those  which  they  prescribe  to  their  own  subjects  ? 
Shall  common  sense,  common  honesty,  the  established  rules 
of  right  and  wrong,  never  be  extended  to  the  intercourse  of 
nations  ?  Must  this  highest  eartlily  province  of  duty  and  in- 
terest be  abandoned  forever  to  savage,  brutal  violence  as  the 
arbiter  of  right  ?  Are  rulers  idiots  that  they  cannot,  or  vil- 
lains that  they  will  not,  use,  in  the  settlement  of  their  own 

^disputes,  and  the  regulation  of  their  intercourse,  as  much 
reason,  justice  and  common  sense,  as  the  humblest  of  their 
subjects  do  in  theirs  ? 

We  appeal  to  acknowledged  authorities  in  the  case.  All 
writers  on  international  law  represent  nations  as  subject  to 
the  same  general  rules  of  right  as  individuals.  Chancellor 
Kent  says,  "  they  are  properly  regarded  as  moral  persons  ;" 

.  and  Vattel  considers  them  as  '  under  the  same  obligations  that 
are  binding  upon  men  in  their  intercourse  one  with  another, 
and  the  law  of  nations  as  no  more  than  the  law  of  nature 
applied  to  nations.'  No  respectable  writer,  since  the  time  of 
Grotius,  has  ventured  to  call  this  principle  in  question  ;  but 
does  it  not  obviously  require  governments  to  settle  their  dis- 
putes in  essentially  tiie  same  way  that  individuals  do  theirs  ? 


4  ARBITRATION/AS    A  220 

If  the  latter  may  not  decide  their  own  case,  and  wreak  ven- 
geance at  will  on  the  objects  of  their  displeasure,  why  should 
§ie  former  be  allowed  to  do  so  ?  Why  should  nations  be  in- 
dulged in  principles  of  action  that  would  in  individuals  out- 
rage common  seiise,  trample  on  all  law,  and  subvert  the  very 
foundations  of  society  ? 

Let  us  quote  from  the  great  masters  of  international  law. 
Grotius  says,  "  war  should  never  be  declared  until  all  other 
means  of  redress  have  been  faithfully  tried  ; "  and  Vattel 
asserts,  that  "the  law  of  nature,  which  recommends  peace, 
concord  and  charity,  obliges  nations  to  attempt  the  mildest 
metliods  of  terminating  tlieir  tlifferences. — Nature  gives  us  no 
right  to  have  recourse  to  force,  but  where  mild  ^id  pacific 
methods  are  ineffectual. — When  sovereigns  cannot  agree 
about  their  pretensions,  they  sometimes  trust  the  decision  of 
their  disputes  to  arbitrators.  This  method  is  very  reasonable, 
and  very  conformable  to  the  law  of  nature.  Though  the  strict 
right  may  be  mistaken  by  the  arbitrator,  it  is  still  more  to  be 
feared  that  it  will  be  overwhelmed  by  the  fate  of  arms." 

On  this  point,  Vattel  adduces  a  series  of  striking  examples. 
•*  The  kings  of  Denmark  formerly  condescended  by  solemn 
treaty  to  refer  to  those  of  Sweden  the  differences  that  might 
arise  between  them  and  their  Senate  ;  and  the  kings  of  Swe- 
den did  the  same  with  regard  to  those  of  Dermiark.  The 
princes  and  states  of  West  Friesland,  and  the  burgesses  of 
Embden  in  the  same  manner  constituted  the  republic  of  the 
United  Provinces  tlie  judge  of  their  differences.  The  princes  of 
Neufchatel  established  in  1400  the  canton  of  Berne  the  judge 
and  perpetual  arbitrator  of  their  disputes.  The  Swiss  have 
had  the  precaution,  in  all  their  alliances  among  themselves, 
and  even  in  those  they  have  contracted  with  the  neighboring 
powers,  to  agree  beforehand  on  the  manner  in  which  their 
disputes  were  to  be  submitted  to  arbitrators,  in  case  they 
could  not  themselves  adjust  tjiem  in  an  amicable  manner.* 
This  wise  precaution  has  not  a  little  contributed  to  maintain 
the  Helvetic  Republic  in  that  flourishing  state  which  secures 
its  liberty,  and  renders  it  respectable  throughout  Europe." 

Such  was  the  law  of  nations  on  this  point  centuries  ago ; 
but  within  the  last  twenty  or  thirty  years,  the  principle  has 
come  into  still  higher  repute,  and  more  general  use.  Often 
has  it  been  employed  by  the  leading  «abinets  of  Europe  for 
the  adjustment  of  their  differences  ;  and  we  ourselves  have 
in  several  instances  resorted  to  it  with  a  degree  of  success 
calculated  to  encourage  its  general  adoption.  A  question 
relative  to  the  interpretation  of  our  last  treaty  of  peace  with 
Great  Britain,  was  referred  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  and  de- 
cided to  mutual  satisfactiwi  in  our  favor.     The  dispute  con- 


221  SUBSTITUTE    FOR    WAR.  ,  5 

ceming  our  north-eastern  boundary,  we  submitted  to  Hie  King 
of  the  Netherlands ;  and,  though  his  award,  being  a  com- 
promise not  authorized  by  the  terms  of  reference,  failed  to 
satisfy  either  England  or  ourselves,  yet  it  doubtless  served  to 
prevent  for  the  time  a  resort  to  arms,  and  to  secure  in  the  end 
a  settlement  very  nearly  resembling  that  award,  and  satisfac- 
tory to  both  parties.  Our  difficulties  with  Mexico  had  brought 
us  to  the  brink  of  war ;  but  the  danger  was  instantly  averted 
by  a  reference  of  the  points  in  dispute  to  the  King  of  Prus- 
sia. Thus  is  the  practice  of  enlightened  and  powerful  na- 
tions strongly  tending  to  establish  this  principle  as  a  most 
important  part  of  international  law.  Already  is  it  a  favorite 
antidote  or  remedy  for  war,  a  substitute  proved  by  actual  ex- 
perience to  be  far  better  than  the  sword ;  and  all  we  now  ask, 
is  the  formal  incorporation  of  this  principle  in  every  treaty 
between  nations  as  tlie  last  resort  for  the  adjustment  of  their 
difficulties. 

The  voice  of  public  opinion,  that  mistress  of  the  civilized 
world,  is  also  coming  to  demand  this  substitute  for  war.  The 
people,  whose  treasures  and  blood  have  been  so  recklessly 
wasted  in  the  quarrels  of  rulers,  are  already  in  favor  of  the 
plan,  and  may  be  expected  ere-long  to  become  clamorous  for 
its  general  adoption.  They  begin  to  learn  that  rulers  can 
settle  their  disputes  without  the  butchery  of  their  subjects, 
and  will  one  day  insist  that  they  skcdl.  That  day  is  coming 
on  apace ;  and,  when  it  does  come,  no  congress,  no  cabinet, 
no  despot  in  Christendom  will  be  able  to  witJhstand  the  united, 
inflexible  demand  of  the  whole  people  for  the  adjustment  of 
national  difficulties  without  the  shedding  of  their  blood. 

We  speak  not  at  random  ;  the  popular  will  has  already  ex- 
pressed itself  on  this  point  in  ways  not  to  be  misunderstood. 
There  is  not  in  Christendom  any  intelligent  community,  scarce 
a  solitary  press,  or  respectable  writer,  that  would  not  favor  the 
adoption  of  our  principle  as  a  substitute  for  war.  The  ques- 
tion has  been  fairly  submitted  to  some  of  them.  A  friend  of 
peace  in  Massachusetts,  some  fifteen  years  after  the  fall  of 
Napoleon,  brought  it  before  a  large  number  of  persons  in 
several  States,  and  readily  obtained  from  men  of  every  rank, 
profession  and  employment, — from  farmers  and  mechanics, 
from  merchants,  lawyers  and  physicians,  from  judges,  gov- 
ernors and  Christian  ministers  of  every  name,— some  thousands 
of  signatures  in  favor  of  having  all  national  disputes  settled 
by  amicable  reference.  The  principle  commends  itself  at 
once  to  every  man ;  and,  if  fully  understood,  not  one  in  a 
thousand  of  the  people  but  would  instantly  prefer  it  to  the 
blind  and  brutal  arbitrament  of  the  sword. 
To  this  voice  of  the  people  some  of  our  legislators  have 
# 


0  ARBITBATION,  AS    A  222 

already  given  a  partial  response.  The  late  accomplished 
Legare,  in  his  report  from  the  Committee  on  Foreign  Rela- 
tions, says  "  they  heartily  concur  in  recommending  a  refer- 
ence to  a  third  power  of  all  such  controversies  as  can  safely 
be  confided  to  any  tribunal  unknown  to  the  constitution  of 
our  own  country."  The  legislature  of  Massachusetts  had 
previously  gone  still  further,  and  passed  resolves,  with  per- 
fect unanimity  in  the  House,  and  with  only  two  dissenting 
votes  in  the  Senate,  recommending  not  only  "  tlie  practice  of 
arbitration  as  an  occasional  substitute  for  war,  but  a  Congress 
and  Court  of  Nations  as  a  permanent  system  to  carry  the 
principle  into  effect"  In  1844,  they  adopted  still  stronger 
resolutions  in  favor  of  both  these  modes  of  reference  ;  nor 
would  any  legislature,  when  fully  informed  on  the  subject, 
refuse  their  sanction  to  principles  so  obviously  reasonable  and 
salutary. 

Long  ago  did  the  fathers  of  our  Republic  cherish  similar 
desires  for  some  preventive  of  war.  Jefferson  says,  "  nations, 
like  individuals,  stand  towards  each  other  only  in  the  relations 
of  natural  right ;  and  might  they  not,  like  them,  be  peaceably 
punished  for  violence  and  Avrong  ? — Wonderful  has  been  tlie 
progress  of  human  improvement  in  other  respects ;  let  us 
hope  that  the  law  of  nature  will  in  time  influence  the  pro- 
ceedings of  nations  as  well  as  of  individuals,  and  that  we 
rfiall  at  length  be  sensible,  that  war  is  an  instrument  entirely 
inefficient  towards  redressing  ivrong,  and  multiplies  instead  of 
indemnifying  losses.""  Franklin,  who  used  so  oflen  to  repeat 
his  favorite  maxim,  "  there  never  was  a  good  ivar,  or  a  bad 
peace,^^  said,  "  we  daily  make  great  improvements  in  natural 
philosophy ;  there  is  one  I  wish  to  see  in  moral — ^the  discovery 
of  a  plan  that  would  induce  and  oblige  nations  to  settle  their 
disputes  without  first  cutting  one  another's  throats.  When 
will  human  reason  be  sufliciently  improved  to  see  the  advan- 
tage of  this  ?  When  will  men  be  convinced,  that  even  suc- 
cessful wars  become  at  length  misfortunes  to  the  victorious 
themselves  ?  " 

The  time  for  which  Franklin  and  Jefferson  thus  longed,  is 
well  nigii  come.  Already  are  the  people  in  this  country,  if 
not  in  others,  sufficiently  prepared  for  such  a  measure  as  we 
propose ;  and,  should  rulers  adopt  it  as  a  permanent  substitute 
for  war,  we  doubt  not  they  would  find  themselves  at  once 
sustained  and  applauded  by  the  popular  voice.  The  general 
Bentiment  of  Christendom  would  soon  ratify  the  act  as  a 
glorious  era  in  the  history  of  the  world ;  and  countless  mil- 
lions yet  unborn  would  bless  the  wisdom,  patriotism  and 
philanthropy  which  had  thus  stayed  the  stream  of  blood,  and 
left  nations  at  liberty  to  start  anew  upon  a  career  of  unex- 
ampled prosperity  and  happiness. 


223  SUBSTITUTE    FOR   WAR.  7 

In  favor  of  our  Scheme,  we  might  marshal  a  host  of  argu- 
ments and  motives.  Should  it  utterly  fail,  there  is  no  possi- 
bility of  its  doing  any  harm ;  but,  should  it  succeed  according 
to  our  hopes,  how  many  evils  would  it  prevent,  how  many 
blessings  confer !  What  myriads  of  treasure,  what  rivers  of 
blood,  what  numberless  forms  of  crime  and  wo,  would  it 
save !  How  many  wives  would  it  rescue  from  widowhood  ; 
how  many  children  from  orphanage ;  how  many  families  from 
ruin ;  how  many  provinces  from  plunder  and  devastation ; 
how  many  cities  from  fire  and  sword ;  how  many  countries 
from  all  the  nameless  calamities  of  war !  It  would  give  the 
world  a  jubilee  hitherto  unknown.  Free  from  the  dangers  of 
war,  its  teeming  myriads  could  gird  themselves,  wiSi  new 
zeal  and  hope,  to  every  enterprise  for  their  own  or  the  general 
good.  Millions  of  warriors,  no  longer  drones  fed  from  the 
public  crib,  might  return  to  the  arts  of  peace,  and  contribute 
their  share  to  tlie  common  weal.  Population  would  swarm 
anew ;  agriculture  would  spread  its  golden  harvests  over  hill 
and  vale ;  the  various  mechanic  arts  would  ply  afresh  their 
thousand  forms  of  improved  machinery ;  commerce  without 
fear  would  unfurl  its  canvass  on  every  sea,  and  barter  its 
commodities  in  every  port ;  learning,  and  philanthropy,  and 
religion  would  pass  without  obstruction  from  land  to  land,  and 
ere-long  cover  the  globe  with  their  blessings.  Every  interest 
of  man  calls  aloud  for  such  a  policy.  The  prosperity  of  our 
own  country,  the  welfare  of  Christendom,  the  happiness  of 
the  world ;  patriotism,  humanity  and  religion ;  the  great  and 
glorious  movements  of  the  age ;  all,  all  demand  it. 

And  what  excuse  "can  we  plead  for  refusing  a  demand  so 
reasonable?  Is  it  impossible  to  bring  nations  into  the 
measure  ?  We  have  seen  that  the  people  are  even  now 
ready  for  it;  and  why  should  rulers  object  or  hesitate? 
What  interest  or  claim  of  theirs  would  it  sacrifice  or  endan- 
ger ?  Would  it  cripple  their  power,  or  interfere  with  any  of 
their  rightful  prerogatives  ?  No ;  it  would  rather  confirm 
them  all,  and  ere-long  endear  itself  both  to  rulers  and  sub- 
jects, as  a  most  effectual  safeguard  of  their  respectfve  rights 
and  interests.  War  is  the  enemy,  and  peace  the  friend  of 
them  both. 

But  is  arbitration  inconsistent  with  the  dignity  of  govern- 
ments ?  If  so,  why  and  how  ?  We  deem  it  honorable  for 
individuals  to  refer  their  disputes  to  competent,  impartial 
umpires  ;  and  why  should  it  be  dishonorable  for  nations  to  do 
the  same  ?  When  a  dispute  arises  between  two  (nf  our  towns 
or  counties,  they  appeal  to  the  courts  of  the  State,  and  when 
oetween  two  States,  to  the  supreme  court  of  the  United  States, 


8  ARBITRATION,  AS    A  224 

as  their  last  resort,  without  a  suspicion  ih  either  case  of  its 
being  disreputable  for  them  thus  to  settle  their  difficulties ; 
and,  as  some  of  our  States  contain  more  inhabitants  than 
many  a  nation  both  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  we  see  not 
what  should  make  it  inconsistent  witli  the  dignity  of  the  latter 
to  adjust  their  differences  in  the  same  way.  It  is  now  shame- 
ful for  individuals  to  fight  like  bull-dogs  about  any  matters  in 
dispute  between  them ;  and,  when  public  opinion  becomes 
what  it  should  be,  and  is  likely  ere-long  to  be,  it  will  be 
equally  dishonorable,  a  deep,  everlasting  disgrace,  for  nations 
to  butcher  one  another  for  the  adjustment  of  their  difficulties, 
or  to  employ  for  the  purpose  any  other  means  than  those  of 
amicable  agreement,  or  mutual  reference. 

'  But  governments  may  be  reluctant  to  pledge  themselves  in 
advance  to  this  or  any  other  mode  of  settling  their  disputes.' — 
Such  a  plea  is  more  plausible  than  sound ;  for  it  would,  if 
carried  out,  forbid  all  agreement  between  nations.  Every 
treaty  binds  them  in  advance ;  and,  if  we  discard  such  pledges, 
we  must  abjure  all  treaties  ;  but,  if  nations  may  consistently 
pledge  themselves  on  one  point,  they  may  on  another,  and 
agree  beforehand  to  the  settlement  of  their  disputes  by  refer- 
ence, just  as  well  as  they  noAv  agree  to  a  reciprocity  of  trade, 
or  a  mutual  surrender  of  fugitives  from  justice.  The  principle 
is  the  same  ;  nor  is  there  any  more  dishonor  or  inconsistency 
in  one  case  than  in  the  other.  Nay,  a  pledge  in  advance  is 
the  very  thing  we  need,  to  prevent  a  sudden  rush  to  arms 
under  the  blind  and  reckless  impulses  of  passion  or  prejudice. 
It  is  a  dictate  of  common  sense  ;  and  often  do  we  find  shrewd, 
sensible  men  forestalling  the  evils  of  litigation  by  mutual 
promise  to  adjust  their  affairs  in  the  last  resort  by  arbitration. 
It  might  not  be  safe  to  wait  for  the  hour  of  trial ;  for  nations 
it  is  even  less  so  than  for  individuals ;  and  hence  we  deem  it 
especially  desirable  for  them,  while  both  parties  are  calm  and 
candid,  to  agree  beforehand  upon  the  mode  of  settling  what- 
ever difficulties  may  arise  between  them. 

But  it  may  be  said,  '  we  can  take  care  of  ourselves,  and 
decide  jour  own  controversies.' — Be  it  so  ;  but  how  will  you 
do  it  ?  Is  your  will  to  be  law  ?  Is  no  voice  but  your  own  to 
be  heard  in  the  case  ?  A  dispute  implies  at  least  two  parties ; 
and  can  one  decide  it  without  consulting  the  other  ?  Would 
you  concede  to  your  antagonist  such  a  claim  ?  If  not,  you 
must  both  unite  in  settling  the  dispute  ;  and,  if  you  cannot 
agree  between  yourselves,  no  method  remains  but  some  form 
of  reference. — Tell  us  not,  you  rely  on  your  sword.  Your 
antagonist  may  say  the  same;  but  will  both,  or  either,  be 
satisfied  with  ^e  decision  of  such  an  arbiter  7  Can  there  be, 
in  the  murderous  enginery  of  war,  any  logic  likely  to  satisfy 


SUBSTITUTE    FOR   WAR.  9 

each  party  ? — JVbr  does  the  sword  ever  settle  such  disputes ;  for 
well  has  Vattel  said,  "  it  is  an  error,  no  less  pernicious  than 
absurd,  to  suppose  that  war  is  to  decide  controversies  between 
nations."  The  sword  decides  nothing ;  it  leaves  the  points  in 
dispute  just  where  it  found  them,  and  merely  makes  the  par- 
ties Avilling,  after  enduring  its  countless  evils  for  years,  to 
settle  the  whole  controversy  by  negotiation,  reference,  or 
some  other  pacific  expedient,  generally  without  touching  the 
original  bone  of  contention. 

Perhaps  you  plead  the  uncertainties' of  arbitration.  But  are 
these  to  be  compared  with  the  evils  inseparable  from  war  ? 
Is  the  latter  more  certain  in  its  results  than  the  former  ? 
Should  you  draw  the  sword,  can  you  after  all  be  sure  of 
gaining  your  point  ?  Well  does  an  able  writer  say,  "  We  can , 
scarcely  anticipate  any  future  national  difference  which  it 
would  not  be  more  safe  and  prudent  to  submit  to  arbitration, 
than  to  the  chances  of  war.  However  just  may  be  our  cause, 
however  united  our  people,  we  cannot  foresee  the  issue  of  the 
conflict,  nor  tell  what  new  enemies  we  may  be  called  to  en- 
counter, what  sacrifices  to  bear,  what  concessions  to  make." 

But  do  you  doubt  whether  such  pledges  of  mutual  reference 
would  be  kept  by  nations  ?  "  It  is  readily  admitted,"  says  a 
worthy  son  of  the  immortal  Jay,  "  that  if  the  only  guarantee 
for  their  faithful  performance  consisted  in  the  virtue  and  in- 
tegrity of  statesmen  and  politicians,  the  confidence  to  be  re- 
posed in  them  would  be  but  faint.  Happily,  however,  we 
have  a  far  stronger  guarantee  in  national  interest,  and  in 
public  opinion.  Every  government  that  felt  disposed  to  vio- 
late such  a  treaty,  would  be  conscious  that,  by  doing  so,  it 
would  be  sacrificing  substantial  interests  for  precarious  ad- 
vantages, exchanging  the  blessings  of  continued  peace  for  the 
hazards  and  calamities  of  war.  It  would,  indeed,  require 
some  very  powerful  temptation  to  induce  a  people  to  forego 
the  peace,  security,  and  exemptions  from  military  burdens, 
conferred  by  such  a  treaty.  Public  opinion,  moreover,  would 
unite  with  self-interest  in  preserving  these  treaties  inviolate. 
A  government  who  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  war,  had 
pledged  its  faith  to  abide  by  the  award  of  umpires,  would,  by 
going  to  war  in  defiance  of  that  award,  and  in  palpable  viola- 
tion of  its  solemn  engagements,  shock  the  moral  sense  of 
mankind,  and  would  probably  disgust  even  its  own  subjects. 
At  the  present  day  all  governments  are  more  or  less  con- 
trolled by  public  opinion ;  and  the  progress  of  education,  and 
the  power  of  the  press,  enable  every  individual  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  the  conduct  of  his  rulers.  Such  a  war  would  be 
odious,  because  it  would  be  felt  by  all  to  be  unjust  and  dis- 
honorable.   It  would   also  be  reprobated  by  the  umpires 


10  ARBITRATION,  AS    A  226 

whose  decision  would  thus  be  contemned,  and  by  every  na- 
tion which  had  entered  into  a  similar  treaty.  It  ought,  also, 
to  be  remembered,  that  each  new  treaty  would  tend  to  secure 
the  observance  of  all  the  preceding  ones,  as  each  nation 
would  feel  tliat  the  value  of  its  own  treaty  would  greatly  de- 
pend on  the  faithful  performance  of  all  the  others ;  since,  if 
one  were  violated  with  impunity,  the  power  of  the  others 
to  preserve  peace  would  necessarily  be  weakened.  In  short, 
such  a  war  would  most  probably  be  prevented,  or  speedily 
terminated  by  the  intenerence  of  other  powers  interested  in 
enforcing  treaties  for  the  preservation  of  peace. 

"  But  surely  it  would  be  the  height  of  folly  to  refuse 
entering  into  an  advantageous  treaty,  because  it  might  pos- 
sibly be  violated.  What  profitable  commercial  treaty  was 
ever  rejected  on  this  ground  ?  Even  admitting  the  case  sup- 
posed, our  local  situation,  our  population  and  resources,  relieve 
us  from  all  danger  of  a  sudden  and  hostile  attack.  No  future 
enemy  of  the  United  States  will  ever  indulge  the  idea  of  con- 
quest ;  and  the  only  serious  consequences  we  could  apprehend 
from  unexpected  hostilities,  would  be  the  interruption  of  our 
commerce,  while  tlie  nation,  strengthened  in  all  its  resources 
by  her  past  exemption  from  war,  could  immediately  place  itself 
in  the  attitude  of  defence. 

"  Dismissing,  then,  all  idle  fears  that  these  treaties  honestly 
contracted,  and  obviously  conducive  to  the  highest  interests 
of  the  parties,  would  not  be  observed,  let  us  contemplate  the 
rich  and  splendid  blessings  they  would  confer  on  our  coun- 
try. Protected  from  hostile  violence  by  a  moral  defence 
more  powerful  than  all  the  armies  and  navies  of  Europe,  we 
might,  indeed,  beat  our  swords  into  plough-shares,  and  our 
spears  into  pruning-hooks.  The  millions  now  expended  on 
our  military  establishments,  could  be  applied  to  objects 
directly  ministering  to  human  convenience  and  happiness. 
Our  whole  militia  system,  with  its  long  train  of  vices,  and  its 
vexatious  interruptions  of  labor,  would  be  swept  away.  The 
arts  of  peace  would  alone  be  cultivated,  and  would  yield  com- 
forts and  enjoyments  in  a  profusion  and  perfection  of  which 
mankind  have  witnessed  no  parallel.  In  tjie  expressive  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  our  citizens  would  each  '  sit  under  his  own 
vine  and  under  his  own  fig-tree,  with  none  to  make  him 
afraid,'  and  our  peaceful  and  happy  republic  would  be  an  ex- 
ample to  all  lands.  , 

"  It  is  impossible  that  a  scene  so  bright  and  lovely,  should 
not  attract  the  admiration  of  the  world.  The  extension  of 
education  in  Europe,  and  the  growing  freedom  of  her  institu- 
tions, are  leading  her  people  to  think,  and  to  express  their 
thoughts.    The  governments  of  the  eastern  continent,  what- 


227  SUBSTITUTE    FOR  WAR.  11 

ever  their  form,  are  daily  becoming  more  and  more  sensitive 
to  popular  opinion.  The  people,  already  restive  under  their 
burdens,  would  soon  discover  that  those  burdens  would  be  re- 
duced, if  not  wholly  removed,  by  the  adoption  of  such  an 
American  policy,  and  they  Avould  inquire  why  they  were  de- 
nied tjje  blessings  of  peace.  Before  long,  some  minor  states 
would  commence  the  experiment,  and  the  example  be  followed 
by  others.  In  time,  these  treaties  would  be  merged  in  more 
extensive  alliances,  and  a  greater  number  of  umpires  would 
be  selected  ;  nor  is  it  the  vain  hope  of  idle  credulity,  that  at  last 
a  union  might  be  formed  of  every  Christian  nation  for  guaran- 
teeing the  peace  of  Christendom,  by  establishing  a  tribunal  for 
the  adjustment  of  national  differences,  and  by  preventing  all 
forcible  resistance  to  its  decrees.  That  such  a  court  formed  by  a 
congress  of  nations  in  obedience  to  the  general  wish,  would, 
next  to  Christianity,  be  the  richest  gift  ever  bestowed  by  heaven 
upon  a  suffering  world,  will  scarcely  be  questioned  by  any  who 
have  impartially  and  candidly  investigated  the  subject  J^ 

Here  is  high  testimony  to  the  importance  and  ultimate 
practicability  of  a  Congress  of  Nations  ;  a  system  based 
on  the  principle  of  mutual  reference,  and  embodying  that 
principle  in  a  permanent  and  perfect  form.  Well  does  one 
of  the  most  enlightened  legislatures  in  Christendom,  while 
"  regarding  arbitration  as  a  practical  and  desirable  substitute 
for  war,"  still  say,  "  that  a  system  of  adjudication,  founded  on 
a  well-digested  code  of  international  laws,  and  administered 
by  a  standing  court  or  board  of  mutual  reference,  is  prefera- 
ble to  the  occasional  choice  of  umpires  who  act  without  the 
aid  or  restriction  of  established  principles  or  rules." 


Prince  Eugene. — "  The  thirst  of  renown  sometimes  in- 
sinuates into  our  councils,  under  the  garb  of  national  honor. 
It  dwells  on  imaginary  insults  ;  it  suggests  harsh  and  abusive 
language ;  and  people  go  on  from  one  thing  to  another,  till 
they  put  an  end  to  the  lives  of  half  a  million  of  men.  A 
military  man  becomes  so  sick  of  bloody  scenes  in  war,  that 
in  peace  he  is  averse  to  re-commence  them.  I  wish  that  the 
first  minister  who  is  called  to  decide  on  peace  and  war,  had 
only  seen  actual  service.  What  pains  would  he  not  take  to 
seek,  in  mediation  and  compromise,  the  means  of  avoiding 
the  effusion  of  so  much  blood  !  " 

Lord  Brougham. — "  My  principles — I  know  not  whether 
they  agree  with  yours  ;  they  may  be  derided,  they  may  be 
unfashionable  ;  but  I  hope  they  are  spreading  far  and  wide — 
my  principles  are  contained  in  the  words  which  that  great 
man,  Lord  Faulkland,  used  to  express  in  secret,  and  which  I 


12  ARBITRATION.  228 

now  express  in  public — Peace,  Peace,  PEACE.  I  abominate 
war  as  unchristian.  I  hold  it  the  greatest  of  human  crimes. 
I  deem  it  to  include  all  others — violence,  blood,  rapine,  fraud, 
every  thing  which  can  deform  the  character,  alter  the  nature, 
and  debase  the  name  of  man." 

Louis  Bonaparte. — "I  have  been  as  enthusiastic  and 
joyful  as  any  one  else  after  victory ;  yet  I  confess  that  even 
then  the  sight  of  a  field  of  battle  not  only  struck  me  with 
horror,  but  even  turned  me  sick.  And  now  that  I  am  ad- 
vanced in  life,  I  cannot  understand  any  more  than  I  could  at 
fifteen  years  of  age,  how  beings  who  call  themselves  reason- 
able, and  who  have  so  much  foresight,  can  employ  this  short 
existence,  not  in  loving  and  aiding  each  other,  and  passing 
through  it  as  quietly  as  possible,  but  in  striving,  on  tlie  con- 
trary, to  destroy  each  other,  as  though  time  did  not  itself  do 
this  with  suflUcient  rapidity.  What  1  thought  at  fifteen  years 
of  age,  I  still  think,  that  war,  and  the  pain  of  death  which  so- 
ciety draws  upon  itself,  are  but  organized  barbarisms,  an  in- 
heritance of  the  savage  state." 

Seneca. — "  Some  deeds,  which  are  considered  villanous. 
while  capable  of  being  prevented,  become  honorable  and  glo- 
rious, when  they  rise  above  the  control  of  law.  The  very 
things  which,  if  men  had  done  them  in  their  private  capacity, 
they  would  expiate  with  their  lives,  we  extol  when  they  per- 
petrate them  in  their  regimentals.  We  punish  murders  and 
massacres  committed  among  private  persons ;  but  what  do 
we  with  wars,  the  glorious  crime  of  murdering  whole  na- 
tions ?  Here  avarice  and  cruelty  know  no  bounds.  Barbari- 
ties are  authorized  by  decrees  of  senate,  and  votes  of  the 
people ;  and  enormities,  forbidden  in  private  persons,  are 
here  enjoined  by  legislatures." 

Franklin. — "After  much  occasion  to  consider  the  folly  and 
mischiefs  of  a  state  of  warfare,  and  the  little  or  no  advantage 
obtained  even  by  those  nations  which  have  conducted  it  with 
the  most  success,  I  have  been  apt  to  think  there  never  has 
been,  nor  ever  im.ll  be,  any  such  thing  as  a  good  war  or  a  bad 
peace. — Jill  wars  are  follies,  very  expensive  and  very  mis- 
chievous ones.  When  will  mankind  be  convinced  of  this, 
and  agree  to  settle  their  difierences  by  arbitration  ?  Were 
they  to  do  it  by  the  cast  of  a  die,  it  would  be  better  than  by 
fighting  and  destroying  each  other." 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


^^sOhti. 


6^:  '/.o^auM   s»^4m«aL3v^  ■ 

No.  XXX. 

CONGRESS    OF  NATIONS.* 


Section  1. — ^Its  General  Principle. 

There  are  only  two  ways  of  settling  disputes  either  be- 
tween individuals  or  communities — one  by  amicable  agree- 
ment between  the  parties  themselves,  and  the  other  by  refer- 
ence to  a  third  party.  In  the  intercourse  of  nations,  the  for-, 
mer  is  called  negotiation ;  but  the  latter  principle  is  applied 
either  by  the  interposition  of  a  friendly  power  as  mediator,  by 
reference  to  an  umpire  mutually  chosen,  or  by  some  inter- 
national tribunal  resembling  more  or  less  our  courts  of  law 
for  the  adjustment  of  difficulties  between  individuals.  Media- 
tion and  arbitration  are  only  different  modes  of  reference ; 
and  a  congress  of  nations,  like  our  statute-books  and  civil 
courts,  would  merely  embody  both  principles  in  a  permanent 
form. 

All  writers  on  international  law  consider  nations  as  moral 
agents  subject  to  the  same  obligations  as  individuals.  Here 
is  the  clue  to  all  our  plans  and  arguments  for  an  international 
tribunal  that  shall,  like  our  codes  and  courts  of  law  for  indi- 
viduals, regulate  their  intercourse,  and  settle  their  disputes, 
vindicate  their  rights,  and  redress  their  wrongs,  without  the 
effusion  of  blood.  We  wish  nations  to  treat  each  other  as 
individuals  are  required  to  do,  and  to  provide,  in  a  code  and 
court  of  nations,  essentially  the  same  system  for  an  equitable, 
peaceful  adjustment  of  their  difficulties,  that  every  civilized, 
well-regulated  community  has  for  its  own  members. 

Sect.  2. — ^Plan  or  the  proposed  Congress. 
We  shall  not  enter  into  the  details  of  a  plan  for  a  congress 
of  nations.  We  are  not  sticklers  for  any  particular  plan  or 
name,  but  propose  merely  to  incorporate  the  grand  principle 
of  reference  in  some  standing  tribunal  for  the  peaceful  adjust- 
ment of  all  international  difficulties.  How  it  shall  be  consti- 
tuted or  controlled  ;  what  shall  be  the  number  or  qualifications 
of  its  members ;  in  what  way,  or  for  what  term,  they  shall  be 

*  This  synopsis  is  furnished  mainly  to  prompt  the  reader  to  a  more 
thorough  invest ig^ation  of  the  subject  in  the  Prize  Essays  on  a  Congress 
of  Nations,  published  by  the  American  Peace  Society  5  a  vohime  of  great 
ability  and  research,  that  well  deserves  to  be  carefviJly  studied  by  every 
intelligent  Christian,  philanthropist  and  patriot. 
P.  T.       NO.  XXX. 


2  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  230 

chosen;  whether  tlie  states  associated  shall  each  send  an 
equal  number  of  delegates,  or,  if  not,  on  what  principle  the 
representation  shall  be  regulated ;  what  shall  be  the  form  of 
the  tribunal,  its  rules  of  procedure,  and  the  lengtli  or  fre- 
quency of  its  sessions ;  all  such  points  must  be  left  for  time 
and  trial  to  determine,  and  would  very  easily  be  settled  by 
men  fully  bent  on  carrying  into  effect  any  plan  of  the  kind. 
A  right  purpose  would  soon  find  a  feasible  way ;  and,  wishing 
merely  to  start  and  guide  inquiry  concerning  such  a  tribunal, 
we  will  give  only  a  few  of  its  outlines. 

1.  Our  plan  includes  two  measures — one  temporary,  or  oc- 
casional ;  the  other  settled  and  permanent  We  would  have 
first  a  congress  of  nation^^  grand  convention  of  delegates 
plenipotentiary  from  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world  that  could 
be  brought  into  the  measure,  to  deliberate  and  agree  upon  a 
code  of  international  law.  We  would  have  them  invested 
like  ambassadors  with  power,  not  to  establish  such  a  code,  but 
merely  to  recommend  its  principles  in  detail  to  their  respec- 
tive governments  for  their  adoption  or  rejection.  The  next 
measure  would  be  the  establishment  of  an  international  tribu- 
nal to  interpret  that  code,  and  adjudicate  whatever  cases  any 
nations  in  dispute  might  refer  to  their  decision. 

2.  The  character  of  its  members  would  of  course  be  pre- 
eminent, all  master-spirits.  The  lawgiver  of  nations,  the 
judge  between  cabinets  and  courts,  kings  and  emperors,  it 
would  be  the  most  august  tribunal  on  earth  ;  a  seat  in  it  might 
come  ere-long  to  be  regarded  as  the  climax  of  human  ambi- 
tion ;  every  state  would  desire  to  be  represented  by  its  purest 
and  ablest  men ;  and  thus  would  it  soon  become,  far  more 
than  the  senate  of  Rome,  or  the  Areopagus  of  Athens,  the 
admiration  of  the  world. 

3.  Its  jurisdiction  should  extend  only  to  matters  connected 
with  the  intercourse  of  nations  ;  and  no  case  should  come 
before  it  except  by  consent  and  choice  of  parties.  Its  deci- 
sions should  be  final,  and  preclude  by  mutual  agreement  all 
right  of  appealing  to  any  further  means  of  adjustment,  except 
a  new  hearing,  an  amicable  consultation,  or  reference  to  spe- 
cial umpires  mutually  chosen. 

4.  Its  decrees  should  be  merely  advisory.  Whetlier  legisla- 
tive or  judicial,  they  should  bind  no  party  without  their  con- 
sent, and  depend  for  success  entirely  on  the  high  repute  of 
the  tribunal,  on  the  obvious  equity  of  its  decisions,  and  the 
strong  tide  of  public  opinion  in  their  favor.  It  should  act  as 
a  diet  of  ambassadors  to  mature  terms  for  the  ratification  of 
their  respective  constituents,  or  as  a  board  of  referees  whose 
arbitrament  the  parties  would  still  be  at  liberty  to  accept  Dr 
reject 


d^  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  3 

5.  Its  sanctions  should  never  include  or  involve  a  resort  to 
the  sword.  Its  decrees  should  be  enforced  only  by  moral  or 
peaceful  means.  Penalties  there  might  be ;  but  they  should 
all  be  pacific,  and  consist  in  the  recoil  of  public  opinion,  in 
the  withdrawal  of  friendly  intercourse,  or  the  curtailment  of 
commercial  and  other  privileges. 

These  outlines  should  be  constantly  borne  in  mind ;  for 
they  obviate  most  of  the  objections  hitherto  brought  against 
the  project  of  a  congress  of  nations,  and  would  at  least  render 
such  a  tribunal  perfectly  harmless.  If  it  did  no  good,  it  cer- 
tainly could  do  no  evil. 

Sect.  3. — Objects  sought. 

The  mesLSure  we  propose,  aims  at  a  variety  of  results,  each 
highly  important  to  the  welfare  of  nations.  It  would  seek 
mainly  to  preserve  peace  without  the  sword ;  but  tliis  purpose, 
however  prominent  and  sublime,  is  only  one  among  the  mul- 
titude of  its  appropriate  objects.  It  would  be  not  only  the 
peace-maker  of  nations,  but  the  regulator  of  their  entire  inter- 
course, and  the  guardian  of  all  their  common  interests.  It 
would  perform  for  the  kingdoms  associated  no  small  part  of 
the  services  that  our  own  Congress  does  for  the  different 
members  of  our  republic,  and  would  thus  have  three  distinct 
departments  of  duty — to  settle  and  complete  the  laio  of  nations, 
to  adjust  all  disputes  between  them  unthout  an  appeal  to  the 
sword,  and  direct  their  intercourse  and  combined  energies  in 
ways  best  adapted  to  the  improvement,  prosperity  and  happiness 
of  the  ivhole  humxin  rojce. 

Few  are  aware  how  unsettled  and  imperfect  is  the  present 
law  of  nations.  We  hava  in  truth  no  such  law  ;  and  what 
passes  under  the  name,  is  of  recent  origin,  and  insufficient 
authority.  This  code,  scarcely  recognized  at  all  by  Greece 
or  Rome,  and  little  heeded  or  known  in  Christendom  itself  till 
after  the  Reformation,  oAves  more  to  Grotius  than  to  all  other 
writers  put  together.  He  was  its  grand  architect.  He  found 
it  a  chaos  of  clashing  precedents  and  principles ;  but  his 
learning,  and  his  powers  of  analysis  and  combination,  reduced 
its  heterogeneous  materials  to  a  system  which  has  won  uni- 
versal admiration,  and  exerted  a  benign  influence  over  the 
intercourse  of  all  civilized  nations.  Still,  neither  Grotius  nor 
his  commentators  have  furnished  a  code  of  international  law. 
They  possessed  not  the  requisite  authority,  and  have  given  us 
only  a  compilation  of  precedents,  opinions  and  arguments.  It 
is  the  work,  not  of  legislators,  but  of  scholars ;  no  law-making 
power  was  ever  concerned  in  enacting  any  of  its  statutes ; 
and  all  its  authority  has  resulted  from  3ie  deference  sponta- 
neously paid  to  the  genius,  erudition  and  wisdom  of  its  com- 


4  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  .  232 

pilere.  It  is  not  law,  but  argument ;  not  decrees,  but  rules ; 
not  a  code,  but  a  treatise ;  and  tlie  nations  are  at  liberty,  ex- 
cept from  the  force  of  custom  and  public  opinion,  to  adopt  or 
reject  it  as  they  please.  A  code  of  international  law  is  still 
a  desideratum  ;  to  supply  this  deficiency  would  be  one  of  tlie 
first  and  highest  duties  of  the  tribunal  we  propose ;  and  a 
mere  glance  at  tlie  subjects  which  would  thus  come  before  it, 
must  sufiice  to  show  its  necessity  and  vast  importance. 

Our  limits  will  hardly  allow  us  even  to  name  these  sub- 
jects— articles  contraband  of  war ; — protection  of  neutral 
commerce  ; — security  of  private  property  in  war  ; — the  rights 
and  rules  of  blockade  ; — right  of  search  and  impressment ; — 
protection  of  non-combatants ; — property  in  navigable  rivers ; — 
the  armed  interposition  of  one  nation  in  tlie  domestic  affairs 
of  another ; — right  of  interference  with  a  nation  at  war  ; — 
passage  of  belligerents  through  a  neutral  territory ; — surrender 
of  fugitives  from  justice  or  oppression  ; — various  meliorations 
of  war ; — measures  for  the  entire  extinction  of  the  custom  ; — 
the  settlement  of  national  boundaries ; — the  regulation  of  car- 
tels, and  flags  of  truce ; — the  rules  and  rates  of  salvage ; — the 
improvement  and  expansion  of  commerce  ; — the  adoption  of 
some  common  standard  of  weights  and  measures  ; — tlie  inter- 
pretation of  treaties  by  definite  and  established  rules ; — the 
naturalization  of  foreigners,  and  the  transfer  of  their  alle- 
giance ; — the  determination  of  what  shall  be  deemed  the  in- 
alienable rights  of  man,  such  as  life,  liberty  of  conscience, 
and  the  use  of  his  own  powers ; — ^the  reconcilement  of  laws 
that  come  into  conflict  in  the  intercourse  of  nations,  such  as 
those  respecting  contracts,  majority,  evidence,  and  the  law  of 
domicil ; — improvements  in  various  parts  of  the  international 
code  ; — measures  in  common  for  the  relief  of  nations,  as  in 
the  case  of  Greece,  or  the  Cape  de  Verd  Islands,  and  for  the 
suppression  or  punishment  of  such  practices  as  torture,  infan- 
ticide, human  sacrifices,  the  slave-trade,  and  similar  outrages 
upon  humanity. 

This  enumeration  includes  only  a  part  of  the  subjects  that 
would  come  before  a  congress  of  nations  ;  but,  for  the  sake 
of  a  brief  illustration,  just  glance  at  a  few  of  the  topics  we 
have  mentioned.  Take  the  question  of  blockade.  The  law 
of  nations  is  very  loose  on  this  subject ;  tlie  practice  of  bel- 
ligerents has  taken  a  still  wider  license ;  and  the  exigencies 
of  the  case  call  aloud  for  some  means  to  prevent  the  repetition 
of  such  outrages.  Some  writers  have  questioned  the  pro- 
priety, under  any  circumstances,  of  blockade  against  neutrals ; 
but,  right  or  wrong,  it  ou^ht  certainly  to  be  restrained  from 
that  immense  sweep  of  mischief  to  which  it  has  so  often  as- 
pired in  modern  times.    All  the  ports  of  a  nation,  most  of 


233  CONGRESS    OP    NATIONS.  5 

those  skirting  an  entire  continent,  have,  by  a  mere  stroke  of 
the  pen,  been  closed  against  all  neutral  vessels.  England 
once  declared  the  whole  coast  of  France  to  be  under  blockade, 
and  Napoleon  in  return  did  the  same  to  all  England,  without 
a  fleet  in  either  case  sufficient  to  enforce  a  tenth  part  of  the 
blockade.  It  was  a  mere  scare-crow,  a  blockade  only  on 
paper,  a  shallow  pretence  for  licensing  a  species  of  wholesale 
piracy ;  yet  did  an  English  admiral,  in  the  late  war  between 
Great  Britain  and  ourselves,  declare  our  whole  coast,  two 
thousand  miles  in  extent,  under  blockade,  without  a  twentieth 
part  of  the  ships  requisite  to  enforce  a  blockade  so  extensive. 
The  evils  of  such  a  practice  must  be  immense ;  for  the  block- 
ade of  a  single  port  might  cripple  the  commerce  of  the  world. 
The  blockade  of  Canton  by  the  English  (1840)  injured  the 
United  States  alone  at  the  rate  of  some  ten  million  dollars  in 
a  single  year. 

Glance  next  at  the  conjlid  of  laws  in  the  intercourse  of  na- 
tions. A  man  is  legally  of  age  in  the  United  States  at  twenty- 
one,  but  in  France,  we  will  suppose,  not  till  twenty-five ;  and, 
consequently,  should  a  Frenchman,  only  twenty-one  years 
old,  purchase  goods  in  this  country,  he  would  not  there  be 
bound  in  law  by  the  bargain,  because  deemed  incapable  of 
making  such  a  contract.  A  man,  making  his  will  according 
to  our  laws,  but  not  in  accordance  with  those  of  Holland, 
would,  by  removing  to  that  country,  and  dying  there  without 
any  change  in  the  instrument,  render  it  null  and  void.  In 
the  same  way  might  a  marriage  contract  be  nullified,  and  a 
man's  whole  family  be  disinherited  and  disgraced. 

Look,  also,  at  articles  contraband  of  war.  On  this  point  the 
opmicjns  of  writers,  the  decisions  of  courts,  and  the  practice 
of  nations,  have  been  extremely  variant ;  and  this  diversity  or 
collision  has  been  a  prolific  source  of  irritation,  disputes  and 
wars.  Each  party  condemns  as  contraband  nearly  every 
thing  it  pleases ;  and  hence  have  come  not  only  vast  losses  to 
commerce,  but  fierce  and  bloody  conflicts.  .  The  door  is  open 
to  almost  interminable  disputes ;  and  the  most  trifling  articles 
of  trade  have  thus  become  bones  of  protracted  contention  be- 
tween some  of  the  first  states  in  CJiristendom.  Vessels  have 
been  condemned  for  having  on  board  a  barrel  of  tar,  a  keg  of 
white  lead,  or  even  a  single  gross  of  buttons  !  and  two  con- 
siderable nations  were  actually  plunged  into  a  long  and  bloody 
war  by  the  paltry  question,  whether  a  bar  of  iron  is,  or  is  not, 
contraband  of  war  ! ! 

There  is,  moreover,  the  question  of  private  property  in  war. 
Such  property  on  land  is  now  secured  in  a  time  of  war;  but 
shall  the  same  guaranty  be  extended  to  the  ocean  ?  Shall  the 
law  of  nations  spread  its  broad  segis  over  the  property  of  non- 


6  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  234 

combatants  in  all  circumstances  ?  Shall  privateering  ceaae, 
and  no  more  letters  of  marque  and  reprisal  be  allowed  ?  Shall 
this  practice  of  legalized  piracy  be  utterly  abolished,  and 
commerce  be  left,  alike  in  peace  and  war,  to  traverse  every 
sea,  and  bsuter  its  commodities  in  every  port,  safe  from  the 
attacks  of  privateers  or  of  public  ships  ?  A  consummation 
incalculably  important  to  the  commerce  and  prosperity  of  the 
whole  world.  It  would  strip  war  of  more  than  half  its  re- 
maining pecuniary  evils,  and  hasten  its  entire  abolition. 

We  may  allude,  also,  to  the  ri^ht  of  interference  loUh  a  na- 
tion at  toar.  May  troops  be  raised  in  one  country  to  fight 
against  another,  without  violating  the  laws  of  neutrality.? 
Was  the  part  taken  by  some  of  our  own  citizens  in  the  trou- 
bles of  Canada,  or  in  the  war  of  Texas,  an  infringement  of  our 
amicable  relations  with  England  and  Mexico  ?  This  practice 
has  for  ages  prevailed  more  or  less  throughout  Christendom. 
English  officers  have  in  India  raised  considerable  armies 
avowedly  on  purpose  to  fight  for  pay  ;  English  admirals  and 
American  commodores  have  sold  their  services  to  other  nations 
in  the  trade  of  human  butchery  ;  and  whole  regiments  went, 
year  after  year,  from  England  to  engage  in  the  civil  broils  of 
the  Peninsula.  There  is  scarce  a  country  in  Europe  that  has 
not  occasionally  furnished  mercenaries  for  foreign  wars. 

There  is,  likewise,  tJie  question  of  search  and  impressment. 
This  right,  boldly  claimed  by  some  nations,  is  resolutely  de- 
nied by  others ;  and  this  collision  of  views  and  practices  must 
be  a  fruitful  source  of  strife.  Here  was  the  main  cause  of 
our  last  war  with  England  ;  but  the  point,  left  at  the  close  of 
that  war  just  where  it  was  before,  still  remains  a  magazine 
of  mischief  ready  to  be  kindled  by  a  spark  into  such  an  ex- 
plosion as  mignt  convulse  each  nation  to  its  centre,  and  cover 
its  fairest  fields  with  carnage  and  devastation. 

But  far  more  important  would  be  measures  in  concert  for  the 
abolition  of  the  whole  war-system.  This  would  be  the  grand 
aim  of  such  a  congress  as  we  propose ;  but  a  result  so  mighty 
and  glorious,  can  be  reached  only  by  a  gradual  process.  A 
resort  to  arms  should  be  allowed,  if  at  all,  in  less  than  a  tithe 
of  its  past  or  present  cases ;  ample  means  should  be  provided 
even  in  such  cases  for  a"peaceful  adjustment  of  the  dispute  ; 
the  conflict,  if  inevitable,  should  still  be,  like  ancient  wagers 
of  battle,  under  the  strictest  regulations  to  check  its  tenden- 
cies to  unnecessary  mischief;  and  the  grand  provocative  to 
war,  found  in  standing  armies,  and  other  military  preparations, 
should  be  removed,  as  far  and  as  fast  as  possible,  by  a  reduc- 
tion of  all  such  establishments  through  the  civilized  world. 
The  alleged  necessity  of  them  is  deplored  by  all  ^  a  most 
enormous  evil ;  but  no  nation  dares  to  reduce  its  own  estab- 


235  CONGRESS    OF   NATIONS.  7 

lishraent  without  an  assurance  that  all  the  rest  will  do  the 
same.  This  diflSculty  would  be  met  at  once  by  a  congress 
of  nations ;  one  of  its  earliest  acts  would  probably  be  to  pro- 
pose a  simultaneous,  proportionate  reduction  of  all  standing 
armies  ;  and  this  process  could  easily  and  speedily  be  carried 
so  far  as  to  leave  a  force  barely  sufficient  for  the  preservation 
of  internal  order  and  peace. 

This  synoptical  view  will  suffice  to  show  the  necessity  of 
some  measure  to  settle  the  law  of  nations  as  a  means  of  pre- 
serving peace  between  them,  of  regulating  their  intercourse, 
and  promoting  a  vast  variety  of  common  interests.  The  im- 
portance of  our  scheme  in  this  as  well  as  other  respects,  is 
readily  admitted ;  but  not  a  few  doubt  both  its  feasibility  and 
its  efficacy.  These  ttre  the  main  points,  and  deserve  a  more 
minute  and  thorough  discussion  than  our  present  limits  will 
allow. 

Sect.  4. — Practicability  of  the  Measure. 

There  is  certainly  no  impossibility  inherent  in  the  nature 
of  our  project.  Nations  can,  if  they  will,  call  such  a  conven- 
tion, and  establish  such  a  tribunal  as  we  propose ;  and  the 
only  question  is,  whether  they  can  be  induced  to  do  so.  Can 
they  be  made  to  see  the  vast  importance  of  such  a  measure, 
its  absolute  necessity  to  their  highest  welfare  ?  •  Can  they  be 
brought  into  the  requisite  degree  of  concert  ?  Will  they  ever 
consent  to  come  into  such  a  confederacy  ? 

A  partial  answer  to  these  questions  might  be  inferred  from 
tlie  obvious  necessity  of  a  congress  of  nations.  The  defi- 
ciencies of  their  present  code  can  never  be  supplied,  the  evils 
now  incident  to  their  intercourse  never  be  remedied,  and  their 
highest  welfare,  or  their  perfect  safety  secured,  without  some 
tribunal  of  the  kind  as  their  acknowledged  lawgiver  and  judge. 
No  treatises  on  the  law  of  nations,  no  decisions  of  admiralty 
courts,  no  treaty  stipulations,  no  rectitude,  capacity  or  vigi- 
lance of  rulers,  no  degree  of  intelligence  or  honesty  among 
the  people,  no  force  of  custom  or  public  opinion,  can  ever 
meet  all  the  exigencies  of  the  case,  and  thus  supersede  the 
necessity  of  an  international  tribunal  for  the  various  and  vastly 
important  purposes  already  suggested.  Can  such  a  chasm  in 
the  wants  of  the  world  never  be  filled  ? 

We  find  a  bright  augury  for  our  cause  in  the  general  pro- 
gress of  society.  The  genius  of  universal  improvement  is 
abroad.  The  whole  age  is  instinct  with  new  life,  and  power, 
and  impulse.  The  world  is  all  awake  and  astir.  Its  intellect 
is  on  the  stretch  for  new  discoveries,  inventions  and  improve- 
ments. Onward  is  the  watchword  ;  and  every  thing  that  has 
wings,  is  spreading  them  for  a  wider  range,  and  a  loftier 


8  CONGRESS    OF   NATIONS.  t^ 

flight  Art,  and  science,  and  manufactures,  and  commerce, 
and  agriculture,  and  every  department  of  human  effort,  are 
catching  the  inspiration  of  the  age.  What  enterprises  of  phi- 
lanthropy !  What  plans  of  reform  in  education,  society  and 
government !  How  much  has  already  been  gained,  how  much 
more  in  certain  prospect,  for  the  welfare  of  mankind! — And 
will  this  spirit  of  the  age  never  reach  the  great  subject  of  in- 
ternational law  and  intercourse  ?  While  hewing  down  forests, 
and  converting  entire  provinces  into  gardens;  while  inter- 
secting almost  every  land  with  canals  and  railroads  ;  while 
making  a  thousand  applications  of  steam-power  to  manufac- 
tures and  commerce  ;  while  remodelling  entire  systems  of 
science  and  philosophy,  of  education  and  government ;  while 
combining  high  and  low,  rich  and  p5br,  old  and  young,  in 
successful  efforts  to  supply  every  hamlet  in  Christendom  with 
the  M'ord  of  life,  to  send  the  gospel  through  the  world,  and  to 
banish  from  the  earth  such  evils  as  intemperance  and  the 
slave-trade  ;  will  such  a  spirit  pause  before  accomplishing  a 
task  so  needful  as  that  of  a  code  and  court  of  nations  ? 

Mark  especially  the  increase  of  popular  power.  Knowledge 
is  power ;  and  this  mighty  engine  is  fast  going  into  the  hands 
of  every  man  in  Christendom,  and  giving  him  an  influence 
over  the  destinies  of  the  world.  Even  despots  are  beginning 
to  educate  tlieir  subjects,  and  legitimacy  is  sheltering  itself 
under  the  wing  of  the  schoolmaster.  The  press,  like  the  sun 
in  the  heavens,  is  pouring  a  flood  of  light  on  the  mass  of  com- 
mon minds,  and  revealing  to  them  their  rights  and  preroga- 
tives. The  power  of  tlie  world  is  passing  into  their  hands ; 
and  ere-long  wUl  they  wield  it,  not  to  gratify  war-loving  des- 
pots, but  to  subserve  their  own  interests  by  preserving  peace, 
and  promoting  agriculture,  commerce  and  tlie  arts.  Cannot 
the  people  be  brought  to  favor  such  a  project  as  ours  ?  Most 
certainly ;  and,  if  so,  its  ultimate  success  is  beyond  a  doubt 

Observe  stDl  more  especially  the  influence  of  popular  opinion 
upon  rulers.  It  is  exerting  a  wider  and  stronger  sway  over 
their  policy.  Even  now  does  it  silently  control  tliem,  and  is 
daily  becoming  more  and  more  powerful.  It  is  mightier 
than  monarchs  or  warriors.  No  tlirone,  no  army,  no  fortress 
can  long  stand  before  it  Napoleon,  in  the  zenith  of  his 
power,  quailed  before  the  pen  of  a  British  reviewer  ;  and  the 
press,  as  the  chief  organ  of  public  sentiment,  will  ere-long 
give  law  even  to  rulers.  Here  is  the  secret  of  the  people's 
power ;  and  it  is  forcing  the  high  and  mighty  to  respect  them. 
They  are  coming  to  be  courted  even  by  emperors  and  auto- 
crats as  the  real  depositaries  of  power ;  their  wishes,  perhaps 
not  in  form,  but  in  fact,  are  now  consulted  ;  and  no  cabinet  in 
Christendom  dares  to  contravene  a  general  and  decided  ex- 


J837  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  9 

pression  of  their  will.  Monarchy,  aristocracy,  all  the  cherished 
forms  of  legitimacy,  may  still  remain  ;  but  they  Avill  be,  in  the 
spirit  of  our  own  government,  only  different  modes  of  serving 
the  people,  whose  fiat  must  one  day  become  law  to  the  whole 
civilized  world.  Give  us  the  people ;  and  we  are  sure,  sooner 
or  later,  of  our  cause. 

But  mark,  also,  the  special  direction  of  the  popular  mind. 
It  is  busy  with  what  most  immediately  concerns  its  own  in- 
terests. It  is  looking  into  government,  detecting  its  hoary 
abuses,  and  calling  aloud  for  reform.  It  is  forcing  old  opinions, 
usages  and  institutions  through  the  ordeal  of  its  own  scrutiny 
and  judgment.  Like  Samson  grasping  the  pillars  of  Gaza,  it 
is  laying  its  brawny  hands  on  the  great  principles  of  govern- 
ment, and  demanding  reform  or  demolition.  One  or  the  other 
must  come ;  and  the  final  result  of  tliis  popular  interference 
wiih  the  government  of  states,  and  the  intercourse  of  nations, 
will  doubtless  facilitate  the  establishment  of  some  international 
tribunal  as  the  guardian  of  popular  rights,  and  promoter  of  the 
general  weal.. 

Another  favorable  circumstance  is  the  establishment  of  free, 
representative  governments.  Here  we  see  the  result  of  the 
people's  voice  demanding  that  tlieir  rights  shall  be  respected, 
and  their  interests  faithfully  consulted.  During  the  last  half 
century,  there  have  been,  besides  some  abortive  attempts, 
more  than  eighty  new  written  Constitutions  established  in 
Europe  and  America ;  and  about  one  hundred  millions  of  peo- 
ple are  now  ruled  by  them.  Most  of  these  cases  recognize 
the  representative  principle ;  a  principle  which,  as  carried 
into  practice  in  England  and  France,  but  especially  in  the 
republics  on  this  continent,  may  be  regarded  as  the  grand 
political  discovery  and  characteristic  of  these  later  times. 
When  a  little  more  extended,  and  brought  fully  into  action,  it 
will  doubtless  operate  a  change  in  the  international  policy  of 
tlie  world  highly  favorable  to  the  welfare  of  the  people.  Their 
representatives,  acquainted  with  their  wishes,  and  sympathiz- 
ing in  their  wants,  sufferings  and  prejudices,  will  of  course 
plead  for  their  interests.  Ihe  policy  of  nations  has  hitherto 
been  essentially  belligerent ;  but  popular  representation  will 
be  adverse  to  this  policy,  and  propitious  to  the  great  objects 
sought  by  a  congress  of  nations.  The  mass  of  mankind,  so 
far  from  being  disposed  to  abet  those  ruinous  contests  which 
have  blighted  and  cursed  the  earth  for  so  many  ages,  will  be 
found,  when  left  to  themselves,  to  be  decidedly  in  favor  of  a 
pacific  policy ;  and  the  principle  of  representation,  when  fully 
developed,  cannot  fail  to  give  vast  expansion  and  influence  to 
their  wishes  in  this  respect. 

Another  strong  omen  of  good,  then,  is  found  in  the  changes 


10  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  238 

of  general  opinion  concerning  war.  These  changes  have  been 
rapid  and  great  Once  the  right  of  war  was  questioned  by- 
few,  if  any  ;  now  its  lawfulness  is  boldly  denied  by  large  and 
growing  numbers.  Once  philosophers  commended  it,  states- 
men applauded  it,  and  men  of  letters  made  it  the  chief  theme 
of  their  eulogies;  now  they  all  unite  in  execrating  it  as  a- 
mass  of  abominations  and  woes,  to  be  tolerated  only  as  a  dire 
necessity.  Once  it  was  deemed  the  pastime  of  master-spirits, 
the  sole  pathway  to  glory ;  now  it  is  fast  coming  to  be  held 
in  universal  contempt  and  abhorrence  as  fit  only  for  brutes  or 
fiends.  Once  it  formed  the  main  business  of  nations  ;  now  it 
is  professedly  their  chief  aim  to  avoid  it.  Once  it  was  their 
only  theatre  of  competition ;  now  the  scene  is  changed  to 
manufactures,  commerce,  and  other  sources  of  improvement 
and  comfort,  wealth  and  power.  Public  opinion  on  this  sub- 
ject is  rapidly  changing  in  many  other  respects.  The  time- 
hallowed  delusions  of  war  are  vanishing;  its  strange  and 
guilty  spell  is  losing  its  hold  of  five  thousand  years  upon  the 
popular  mind  ;  men  begin  to  reflect  on  its  incalculable  waste 
of  blood  and  treasure,  on  the  fearful  accumulation  of  its  crimes 
and  its  woes ;  its  evils  will  ere-long  tell  on  the  ballot-box  to 
the  sore  dismay  of  all  war-making  aspirants  after  place  and 
power ;  and,  if  the  custom  can  be  superseded,  the  people  will 
Boon  demand  that  it  shall  be,  and  will  thus  hasten  the  adoption 
of  some  scheme  like  the  one  we  propose,  that  shall  put  an  end 
to  its  horrors  forever. 

War  is  at  length  rallying  all  classes  against  it  as  their 
common  foe.  Once  the  high  favored  it,  while  the  lower  and 
middling  classes,  on  whom  its  evils  chiefly  fell,  had  few- 
means  of  opposition  or  remonstrance.  The  principle  of  rep- 
resentation has  given  to  the  latter  the  power  of  speech ;  tMs 
power  has  called  into  exercise  that  of  inquiry,  reflection  and 
reason ;  and  now  a  voice,  unheard  before,  has  come  up,  as 
from  "  the  vasty  deep,"  loud  and  terrible,  that  war  shall  be 
no  more.  Not  merely  the  suffering  millions,  its  chief  victims, 
but  men  of  wealth,  and  learning,  and  high  authority,  are  be- 
ginning to  brand  with  infamy  this  Avholesale  destroyer  of  hu- 
man interests.  The  open  and  avowed  advocates  of  peace  in 
the  various  classes  of  society,  have  increased  an  hundred-fold  ; 
and  the  increase  of  boldness,  intellectual  power,  and  consis- 
tent zeal,  has  corresponded  to  the  augmentation  of  numbers. 
And  why  should  we  not  expect  it  to  be  thus,  when  any  con- 
siderable body  of  men  is  brought  to  reflect  on  the  subject? 
What  source  of  misery,  which  is  under  the  direction  and 
control  of  man  himself,  can  be  compared  to  this  ?  When  some 
terrible  disease  advances  from  country  to  country,  when  the 
seeds  of  the  pestilence  are  scattered  abroad  by  the  Almighty, 


239  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.        '  11 

it  becomes  us  to  bow  in  submission,  and  hide  ourselves  in  the 
dust  before  that  Holy  Being  who  knows  our  ill  deserts,  and 
whose  secret  ways  are  inscrutable  to  man.  But  in  the  de- 
vastations of  war,  it  is  not  an  Almighty  Being  whose  preroga- 
tives we  are  not  at  liberty  to  question,  but  one  of  the  feeble, 
erring  creatures  of  his  footstool,  that  seizes  the  burning  thun- 
derbolt, and  scatters  it  through  the  world.  And  what  renders 
the  act  the  more  astonishing,  it  is  not  the  mere  impulse  of  an 
unforeseen  phrenzy,  the  ebullition  of  a  momentary  madness, 
but  a  matter  of  calculation,  and  cool  reasoning,  carried  on  in 
the  very  face  of  heaven,  and  in  defiance  of  the  divine  precept. 
t?iou  shcdt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 

It  is  well  ordered  in  Providence,  however,  that  criminal 
principles  and  practices  do  not  fail  to  expose  themselves,  and 
ultimately  to  work  their  own  cure.  The  cries  of  widows  and 
orphans  had  been  heard  from  every  quarter,  mingling  on  every 
breeze ;  but  they  were  too  little  regarded.  The  symptoms 
were  at  last  observed  of  a  great  political  commotion ;  the 
clouds  came  ;  the  thunders  muttered  ;  the  lightnings  gleamed ; 
there  was  a  quaking  and  rocking  of  the  earth,  and  then  there 
suddenly  opened  the  grand  volcano  of  the  French  Revolution 
of  1790,  to  the  wonder  and  bountiful  edification  of  all  the 
advocates  of  war.  At  tliat  dreadful  period  there  were  certain 
experiments,  which  had  a  wonderful  effect  in  enlightening 
the  sentiments  of  some  classes  of  people.  It  was  found  that 
the  glittering  sword  of  war  could  strike  upward,  as  well  as 
downward ;  among  the  high  and  the  mighty,  as  well  as  among 
the  poor  and  powerless  peasants.  The  scythe  fell  upon  the 
neck  of  princes  ;  those,  who  had  been  clothed  in  purple  and 
fine  linen,  were  arrayed  in  beggar's  rags,  and  ate  their  crumbs 
in  a  dungeon;  the  innocent  children  died  with  tlie  guilty 
fathers  ;  delicate  women,  the  delight  of  their  friends,  and  the 
ruling  star  of  palaces,  were  smitten  by  the  hand  of  the  de- 
stroyer, and  bowed  their  heads  in  blood.  And  then  were 
beheld  the  hundred  guillotines,  the  horrid  invention  of  the 
fusillades,  the  drownings  in  the  Loire,  the  dreadful  devasta- 
tions of  La  Vendee,  the  gathering  of  armies  on  the  plains  of 
Italy,  the  bridge  of  Lodi,  and  the  battle  of  Marengo.  These 
were  the  beginnings  of  terrors,  the  opening  of  the  incipient 
seal ;  but  the  end  was  not  yet.  For  twenty  successive  years 
the  apocalypse  of  the  book  of  war  opened  itself  from  one  end 
of  Europe  to  the  other,  and  on  the  ocean  as  well  as  on  the 
land,  in  the  thunders  and  fires  which  at  once  shook,  and  en- 
lightened, and  awed  the  world,  of  the  Nile  and  Trafalgar,  of 
Jena  and  Austerlitz,  together  with  the  dashing  of  throne 
against  throne,  and  of  nation  against  nation.  At  length  the 
"  white  horse  of  death  "  was  seen  taking  his  way  through  the 


12  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  24G 

centre  of  Europe,  and  power  was  given  to  him  to  kill  with  the 
sword  and  with  hunger ;  and  he  was  followed  by  "  the  beasts 
of  the  earth,"  an  army  of  five  hundred  thousand  soldiers ;  and 
they  were  all  offered  up  as  victims  on  the  frozen  fields  of 
Russia ;  and  the  Kremlin,  and  the  ancient  and  mighty  city 
of  Moscow  were  burnt  upon  their  funeral  pyre.  The  earth 
shook  to  its  centre ;  a  howling  and  a  lamentation  went  up  to 
heaven  ;  the  living  ate  the  dead,  and  then  fed  upon  their  own 
flesh,  and  then  went  mad ;  the  wolves  and  the  vultures  held 
their  carnival,  while  Rachel  wept  for  her  children,  and  would 
not  be  comforted.  Nevertheless  the  sickle  of  the  destroyer 
was  again  thrust  among  the  clusters ;  and  the  wine-press  of  war 
was  trodden  at  Dresden,  and  Leipsic,  and  Waterloo,  till  the 
blood  "  came  out  of  the  wine-press,  even  to  the  horse-bridles." 

The  increased  intercourse  of  nations,  and  a  consequent 
intermingling  of  their  interests  and  sympathies,  are  tending 
strongly  to  such  an  international  tribunal  as  we  propose.  It 
has  heretofore  been  the  policy  of  nations  to  be  as  independent 
of  each  otlier  as  possible,  and  to  regard  the  injury  of  a  neigh- 
bor as  a  benefit  to  themselves ;  but  they  are  fast  learning,  that 
God  made  nations,  like  individuals  in  a  family,  like  the  cluster 
of  families  in  a  town,  or  the  multitude  of  towns  constituting  a 
state,  for  a  system  of  reciprocal  dependence,  and  so  inter- 
woven their  interests  as  to  render  the  prosperity  of  one  tribu- 
tary to  that  of  all  the  rest  Hence  the  wonderful  impulse 
given  to  the  commerce,  population  and  general  thrift  of  Chris- 
tendom. This  happy  state  of  things  war  would  interrupt; 
and  its  evils,  felt  not  only  on  the  tax-book  of  the  belligerent, 
but  in  the  workshops  and  counting-rooms  of  the  neutral,  are 
combining  against  it  nearly  all  the  pecuniary  interests  of  the 
world. 

Observe,  also,  the  growing  disposition  of  Christendom  to 
employ  pacific  expedients  for  the  adjustment  of  national  dis- 
putes. These  substitutes, — negotiation,  arbitration  and  me- 
diation,— are  fast  coming  to  supersede  entirely  the  actual  use 
of  the  sword.  There  seems  to  be  a  general,  established  con- 
cert for  avoiding  war  by  such  means.  Holland  and  Belgium 
referred  their  difficulties  to  England  and  France ;  points  in 
dispute  between  Great  Britain  and  ourselves  were  submitted 
first  to  Russia,  and  next  to  Holland ;  the  United  States  and 
Mexico  called  on  the  king  of  Prussia  to  act  as  their  umpire  ; 
and  the  five  powers  of  Europe,  extending  their  benevolence 
beyond  the  limits  of  Christendom,  offered  to  mediate  between 
the  Pacha  of  Egypt,  and  the  Grand  Sultan.  Here  are  the 
elements,  all  the  essential  principles,  of  the  tribunal  we  pro- 
pose ;  and  they  must  pave  the  way,  sooner  or  later,  for  its 
actual  establishment     There  is  even  now  a  strong  and  grow- 


341  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  13 

ing  predisposition  in  favor  of  such  a  scheme.  It  is  already  a 
favorite.  Every  body  hails  the  proposal  as  a  magnificent  con 
ception ;  even  the  skeptic  deems  it  a  glorious  dream  of  phi 
lanthropy ;  and  all  profess  themselves  anxious  to  see  it  real- 
ized, if  it  can  be,  in  the  permanent  peace  and  amity  of  the 
civilized  world.  The  current  of  the  age  is  setting  towards  it 
in  a  gulf-stream.  The  pursuits,  the  habits,  the  sympathies  of 
nearly  all  Christendom  encourage  it,  invite  it,  demand  it ;  nor 
can  the  general  mind  ever  be  put  to  rest  without  it.  Come  it 
must ;  and  the  only  question  is,  how  soon  ? 

Mark,  also,  the  degTee  of  actual  preparation  for  such  a 
tribunal.  The  age  even  now  is  well  nigh  ripe  for  it.  The 
intercourse  of  civilized  nations  by  travel  and  commerce,  by 
enterprises  of  benevolence,  and  interchanges  of  art,  and  sci- 
ence, and  literature,  has  woven  their  sympathies,  habits  and 
interests  into  the  web  of  a  vast  and  glorious  brotherhood. 
They  form  one  community,  one  great  family.  Christendom 
has  already  become,  in  many  important  respects,  a  confede- 
racy of  nations ;  and,  sooner  or  later,  they  must  have  a  com- 
mon tribunal  to  regulate 'their  intercourse  without  the  sword, 
and  to  watch  over  tlieir  common  interests.  They  deeply  need 
it  now ;  and  they  might  come  at  once  under  its  supervision 
with  little  or  no  violence  to  their  present  habits  ;  for  the  fre- 
quent resort  of  late  to  mediation,  artfhration,  and  other  pacific 
expedients  for  the  adjustment  of  their  difficulties,  has  paved 
the  way  for  the  speedy  establishment  of  a  congress  embracing 
all  Christendom. 

Review,  likewise,  the  history  of  international  law  and  inter- 
course. Trace  its  progress  from  the  earliest  times  through 
Egyptians  and  Persians,  through  Greeks  and  Romans,  through 
the  chaos  of  the  dark  ages,  through  the  confederacies,  and 
leagues,  and  diplomacies  of  later  periods,  down  to  the  arbi- 
traments and  congresses  of  the  last  century  or  two ;  and  you 
will  find  ourselves  drifted  already  to  the  very  brink  of  this 
final  improvement  in  the  law  of  nations.  Only  one  breeze 
more,  and  we  reach  the  port.  ^^ 

To  the  same  conclusion  would  a  review  of  consolidated 
governments  lead  us.  If  we  go  back  to  patriarchal  ages,  and 
observe  how  families  expanded  into  tribes,  how  tribes  were 
formed  into  petty  states  like  the  twelve  hundred  in  ancient 
Italy,  how  such  states  were  at  length  combined  into  large 
kingdoms  like  those  of  modern  Europe,  we  shall  see  that  only 
one  step  more  in  this  process  of  fifty  centuries  is  required  for 
a  general  confederacy  of  Christendom  under  a  common  con- 
gress and  court.  Such  a  result,  however  sublime  and  mo- 
mentous, would  be  only  the  extension  of  an  old  and  well- 
established  principle.    It  would  merely  be  pushing  tlie  car  of 

p.  T.       NO.  XXX.       2  '^ 


^4  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  242 

improvement  a  little  farther  on  the  same  track  of  ages.  It 
would  only  do  for  large  communities  or  states  what  has  been 
done  a  thousand  times  over  for  smaller  ones. 

All  the  materials,  indeed,  are  ready  for  the  edifice.  We 
need  no  new  principles  ;  only  an  application  of  those  which 
have  been  for  ages  at  work  in  every  well-regulated  govern- 
ment on  earth.  Trace  the  gradations  of  civil  courts  from  the 
justice's  bench .  through  the  court  of  common  pleas,  and  the 
supreme  court  of  a  state,  up  to  the  judiciary  of  the  United 
States  ;  and  you  will  perceive  that  we  can  go  no  farther 
without  reaching  a  high  court  of  nations.  The  whole  art  of 
government  must  either  stop-here  forever,  or  come,  sooner  or 
later,  to  this  glorious  result,  this  climax  of  political  improve- 
ment 

Sect.  5. — ^Efficacy  of  the  Measure. 

The  measure  we  recommend,  might  well  be  expected  to 
accomplish,  in  a  good  degree,  all  the  objects  heretofore 
specified ;  but  we  shall  now  consider  merely  its  influence  in 
preserving  peace,  and  endeavor  to  prove,  both  from  history, 
and  the  nature  of  the  case,  its  probable  efficacy  for  such  a 
purpose. 

Listen,  then,  to  (he  teachings  of  history.  The  experiment 
has  already  been  made  in  a  variety  of  ancient  and  modern 
cases  ;  and  the  general  result  justifies  the  belief,  that  such  a 
tribunal  as  we  propose,  would  eventually  put  an  end  forever 
to  the  wars  of  Christendom.  The  Amphictyonic  Council  of 
Greece,  composed  of  delegates  from  each  of  its  states,  and 
empowered  to  examine  and  decide  all  their  disputes,  did 
much  to  preserve  peace  between  them  for  a  long  series  of 
ages ;  and,  though  unable,  in  tunes  so  barbarous  and  warlike, 
to  keep  tlie  sword  continually  in  its  scabbard,  still  it  must 
have  saved  rivers  of  blood.  The  Achaean  League  did  the 
same,  and  was  often  solicited,  even  by  foreign  nations,  to  act 
as  the  arbiter  of  their  disputes.  We  might  also  quote  almost 
every  government  in  Europe  as  a  virtual  illustration  of  this 
principle  ;  for  Austria,  France,  Great  Britain,  all  the  leading 
states  of  Christendom,  kept  for  the  most  part  in  domestic 
peace  for  centuries,  are  each  a  cluster  of  small  tribes  or 
baronies  so  long  associated  under  one  head  as  to  have  lost  in 
some  cases  their  original  distinctions  as  independent  princi- 
palities. Austria  and  Great  Britain  are  obvious,  striking 
examples ;  and  tlie  fact  that  the  three  kingdoms  of  the  latter, 
and  the  numerous  principalities  of  the  former,  are  preserved 
in  amity  by  the  general  government  common  to  them  all,  goes 
far  to  prove  the  efficacy  of  our  principle.  TJjis  principle  has 
jkewise  kept  peace  between  our  own  states  for  more  tlian 


11^3      '  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  ^    l5 

sixty  years,  (1844,)  and  between  the  confederated  cantons  of 
Switzerland  for  more  than  five  centuries.  Even  the  occa- 
sional congresses  or  conferences,  so  frequently  held  during  ^ 
tlie  last  two  centuries  between  the  leading  powers  of  Europe 
as  to  average  one  every  four  years,  have  seldom  failed  either 
to  preserve  or  restore  peace.  Not  that  they  have  always  been 
completely  successful ;  but  they  have  fully  evinced  the  effi- 
cacy of  the  principle,  and  added  strong  confirmation  to  the 
hope  of  an  eventual  confederacy  of  all  Christendom  under  a 
congress  or  court  that  shall  keep  its  members  in  constant  and 
perpetual  peace.  If  experiments  so  partial,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances comparatively  so  unfavorable,  have  still  accom- 
plished so  much  even  for  pagan  or  half-christianized  nations, 
what  may  we  not  expect  from  a  tribunal  perfect  as  the  highest 
wisdom  of  modern  times  can  make  it,  cheerfully  recognized 
by  the  whole  civilized  world,  and  enforced  by  a  strong,  uni- 
versal, omnipresent  public  opinion  ? 

Look  at  the  nature  of  the  case.  Such  a  tribunal  m^ouM  either 
produce  or  imply  a  state  of  public  sentiment  strongly  favorable 
1o  the  peaceful  adjustment  of  kll  difficulties  between  nations. 
'There  would  be  a  general,  most  decided  aversion  to  the 
sword ;  a  feeling  like  that  which  made  Franklin  say,  there 
never  was  a  good  war,  or  a  bad  peace  ;  a  willingness,  a  full 
determination  to  preserve  peace  at  almost  any  sacrifice  short 
of  national  destruction  or  dismemberment.  Would  not  such 
sentiments  alone,  if  universally  prevalent,  well  nigh  suffice  to 
keep  all  Christendom  in  perpetual  friendship  and  peace  ? 

But  a  congress  would  remove  the  grand  incentives  to  war. 
It  would  crush,  or  chain,  or  neutralize  the  war-spirit.  It  would 
make  the  warrior's  business  odious  like  that  of  the  hangman, 
and  render  it  the  chief  glory  of  rulers,  not  to  wage  successful 
war,  but  to  preserve  unbroken,  universal  peace.  It  would 
give  a  new  direction  to  the  energies  of  all  Christendom,  and 
turn  the  ambition  of  princes  and  statesmen  into  peaceful 
channels.  It  would  sweep  away  the  grand  nurseries  of  war 
by  superseding  all  war-establishments.  It  would  eventually 
convert  standing  armies  into  handfuls  of  police-men,  and 
leave  war-ships  to  rot,  arsenals  to  moulder,  and  fortifications 
to  crumble  into  ruins.  Here  are  the  chief  combustibles  of 
war  ?  and,  when  these  are  all  removed,  it  will  be  well  nigh 
impossible  to  kindle  its  fires  on  any  emergency. 

But  such  a  congress  would  obviate  nearly  all  the  occasions 
of  war.  These  are  noAv  found  in  points  of  national  honor ; — 
in  sudden  bursts  of  passion  among  rulers; — in  occasional 
outrages  of  officers  or  citizens  ; — in  clashing  views,  customs 
or  interests ; — in  temporary  misconceptions  and  animosities ; — 
in  claims  for  redress  denied,  or  unduly  delayed ; — in  mutual 


16  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  244 

jealousies,  suspicions  and  fears.  Most  of  these  difficulties, 
such  a  tribunal  would  either  prevent,  or  easily  settle ;  and  for 
tlie  rest,  it  would  provide  an  antidote  sufficient  to  supersede 
ninety-nine  wars  in  a  hundred. 

Nay ;  would  not  this  grand  expedient  suffice  for  the  worst 
emergency  possible  to  such  a  state  of  Christendom  ?  It 
would  make  nations,  just  like  the  members  of  a  Christian 
church,  cease  to  think  of  settling  their  disputes  by  arms. 
They  could  never  draw  the  sword  at  the  outset ;  and  the 
long  delay  occasioned  by  an  appeal  to  the  congress,  and  by 
subsequent  preparations  for  conflict,  would  give  ample  time 
for  passion  to  cool,  and  reason  to  gain  such  an  ascendency  as 
she  seldom,  if  ever,  had  in  any  declaration  of  war  by  men. 
If  the  parties  disliked  the  first  decision,  they  might  claim  re- 
peated hearings ;  and  every  new  trial  would  create  new  ob- 
structions in  the  way  of  appealing  to  the  sword.  Such  ai 
appeal  would  draw  down  upon  them  universal  displeasure ; 
they  might  be  put,  as  a  species  of  temporary  outlaws,  under 
the  ban  of  all  Christendom,  and  excluded  from  both  political 
and  commercial  intercourse  ;  and  such  measures,  enforced  by 
the  high  authority  of  a  court  representing  all  civilized  na- 
tions, and  venerated  by  the  whole  world  for  its  integrity  and 
wisdom,  could  hardly  fail  to  hold  back  the  most  reckless  from 
bloodshed. 

Sect.  6. — Objections. 

1.  Pvblic  opinion  is  not  yet  ripe  for  such  a  measure. — 
Then,  let  us  make  it  so.  It  is  in  some  degree  prepared  even 
now  for  tlie  measure  ;  and  soon  might  the  wise  and  good,  by 
the  right  use  of  means  within  their  reach,  form  tlirough 
Christendom  such  a  public  sentiment  as  would  ere-long 
secure  this  or  some  other  permanent  substitute  for  war. 
Public  opinion  is  certainly  ripe  enough  to  start  in  earnest  the 
train  of  efforts  indispensable  to  the  final  accomplishment  of 
our  object 

2.  ff'e  have  other  means  now  in  use  sufficient  for  the 
preservation  of  peace. — True,  they  might  suffice  ;  but  they  do 
not  in  fact  supersede  war.  So  might  similar  means  suffice 
for  the  adjustment  of  all  disputes  between  individuals ;  but 
we  still  deem  it  expedient,  if  not  necessary,  to  have  our  codes 
and  courts  of  law.  In  spite  of  all  methods  now  in  use,  the 
war-system  still  continues,  and  we  wish  to  introduce  a  sub- 
stitute that  shall  actually  supersede  it  entirely  and  forever. 

3.  Christendom  is  unmlling  to  give  up  the  war-sr/stem. — If 
rulers  are,  the  people  are  not ;  and  liie  results  of  the  French 
Revolution  made  even  the  sturdiest  despots  anxious  for  peace 
as  their  only  security.     All   Europe,  crushed  beneath  the 


245  CONGRESS    OP    NATIONS.  17 

enormous  burdens  of  war,  is  even  now  panting  for  release 
from  its  evils,  and  would  hail  with  joy  aiiy  effectual  antidote  or 
remedy.  • 

4.  Bid  ncAions  would  shrink  from  the  expense. — ^We  can- 
not believe  it;  such  a  tribunal  would  cost  scarcely  a  thou- 
sandth part  of  what  the  war-system  does  even  in  peace.  Eng- 
land spent  for  war  an  average  of  more  than  one  million  of 
dollars  every  day  for  twenty  years,  and  the  war  expenses  of 
all  Christendom  cannot  be  less  even  in  peace  than  two  or 
three  millions  a  day ;  while  a  congress  of  one  hundred  mem- 
bers, even  with  a  salary  for  each  equal  to  that  of  our  own 
president,  would  cost  only  two  millions  and  a  half,  and  a  sin- 
gle million  would  support  a  congress  of  fifty  members  at  a 
yearly  compensation  of  $20,000  each,  or  nearly  sixty  dollars 
a  day  for  every  member. 

5.  Bvt  diversities  of  language,  and  religion,  and  manners, 
and  government,  and  pursuits,  would  surely  defeat  the  project. — 
None  of  these  would  oppose  insuperable  or  very  serious  im- 
pediments to  the  slight  degree  of  union  required  in  such  a 
confederacy.  Not  a  few  of  them  were  overcome  in  the  for- 
mation of  our  own  general  government ;  and  they  were  all 
found  in  the  Diet  of  Switzerland,  where  each  of  the  twenty- 
two  cantons  is  internally  as  independent  as  any  nation  on 
earth,  where  tlie  form  of  government  varies  from  the  purest 
democracy  to  the  stiffest  aristocracy,  and  where  the  people 
differ  in  language,  manners  and  religion. 

6.  But  such  a' tribunal  would  be  dangerous. — To  whom  or 
what  ?  Would  it  trample  on  the  weak  ?  No  ;  it  would  have 
no  power  for  such  a  purpose ;  but  its  first  care  would  be  to 
guard  them  against  encroachment  and  abuse.  Would  it  en- 
danger liberty  and  popular  governments  ?  Called  into  exis- 
tence by  their  voice,  it  would  become  of  course  a  servant  to 
their  wishes,  and  a  guardian  of  their  rights  and  interests. 
Would  it  interfere  with  the  domestic  concerns  of  states  ? .  It 
would  itself  be  the  surest  check  upon  such  interference. 
Would  it  become  a  conclave  of  political  intrigue,  and  serve 
only  to  embrpil  the  nations  ?  History  refutes  the  charge  ; 
and  the  supposition  is  just  as  absurd  as  it  would  be  to  expect 
that  ambassadors  appointed  to  negotiate  peace,  would  only 
foment  new  wars.  Would  it  become  a  tool  in  the  hands  of 
some  future  Alexander  or  Napoleon  to  subjugate  all  Chris- 
tendom ?  Such  monsters  are  the  offspring  only  of  war ;  and 
the  peaceful  policy  inseparable  from  a  congress  of  nations, 
would  put  an  end  forever  to  the  whole  brood.  By  what  pro- 
cess, then,  could  such  a  tribunal  be  thus  perverted  ?  With 
no  fleets  or  armies  at  their  command,  with  no  offices  of  emol- 
ument or  honor  to  bestow,  with  no  right  to  touch  any  subject 


18  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  246 

not  gubnutted  to  them  by  their  constituents,  how  could  such 
a  body  become  an  engine  of  conquest,  tyranny  and  blood  ? 

7.  Composed  chiefly  of  representatives  from  monarchies^ 
such  a  tribunal  icoiUdj  at  aU  events,  be  unfriendly,  if  not 
dangerous,  to  republican  governments. — We  see  not  how  it 
could  be ;  for  it  would  have  no  power  to  interfere  with  tlie 
internal  affairs  of  any  government,  or  to  sit  in  judgment  on 
any  dispute  not  voluntarily  referred  to  it  by  the  parties.  No 
nation  would  be  bound  by  any  of  its  decisions  without  tlieir 
own  consent ;  and  we  might  as  well  say,  that  treaties  with 
monarchies,  and  still  more  such  references  as  we  ourselves 
have  repeatedly  made  to  them,  must  endanger  the  freedom  of 
our  institutions.  Such  a  court,  guided  by  a  common  code, 
and  responsible  to  the  whole  world  for  the  rectitude  of  their 
adjudications,  could  not  be  half  so  dangerous  as  those  kings 
and  autocrats  whom  we  have  occasionally  selected  as  um- 
pires. Yet  who  has  ever  dreamed  of  the  least  danger  to  our 
government  from  such  references  ? 

8.  But  the  congress,  after  all,  ivovld  be  powerless. — ^Why  ? 
Because  it  Avould  wear  no  crown,  wield  no  sword,  hold  no 
purse  ?  Such  logic  mistakes  the  age.  Opinion  is  now  the 
mistress  of  the  world.  Her  voice  could  light  or  quench  the 
fires  of  a  thousand  battle-fields.  It  changed  the  government 
of  France  in  a  day,  and  reformed  the  parliament  of  England 
without  bloodshed.  It  made  us  free.  It  once  marshalled  all 
Europe  in  the  crusades.  It  called  up  the  demon-spirits  of 
the  French  Revolution,  and  sent  hurricane  after  hurricane  of 
war  howling  in  wrath  over  the  fairest  portions  of  Christen- 
dom. All  this  it  has  done ;  and,  when  embodied  in  the 
grand  Areopagus  of  the  world,  would  it  then  be  powerless  ? 

Sect.  7. — Means  requisite  for  such  a  Measure. 

Such  a  tribunal  will  of  course  be  the  work  of  time  and  ex- 
tended concert  The  train  is  already  started ;  but  we  must 
pass  through  a  long  process  to  tlie  final  consummation.  The 
frequency  of  national  intercourse,  and  the  peaceful  methods 
of  negotiation,  and  of  reference  in  its  various  forms,  for  the 
settlement  of  national  disputes,  are  rapidly  preparing  the  way 
for  such  a  result,  but  can  never  reach  it  without  the  use  of 
special,  appropriate  means. 

We  must  first  rouse  the  people  to  demand  some  such  ex- 
pedient Rulers  can  find  one,  if  they  leill ;  but  they  never 
will,  till  driven  to  it  by  a  voice  from  the  people  like  that  of 
many  waters.  We  must  spread  before  the  community  a  flood 
of  light  on  this  subject ;  we  must  paint  before  them,  in  burning 
colors,  the  guilt  and  the  evils  of  war;  we  must  show  them 
how  easily  those  at  the  helm  of  government  could  avoid  it,  if 


247  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  10 

they  would  ;  and  we  must  make  them  resolve  not  to  bear  this 
load  of  gratuitous  mischief  and  misery  any  longer,  but  insist 
on  some  device  for  the  permanent  peace  of  Christendom. 

Thus  roused,  let  millions  pour  their  united  voices  upon  the 
ear  of  parliaments,  congresses  and  cabinets,  till  statesmen 
shall  be  constrained  to  take  hold  of  the  work  in  earnest,  and 
push  it  onward  to  its  full  consummation.  Let  some  Burke  or 
Brougham,  some  Franklin  or  Jefferson,  grasp  the  grand  idea, 
and  hold  it  up  before  his  own  nation,  till  it  comes,  like  the 
sun  in  the  firmament,  to  fill  the  whole  hemisphere  of  tlieir 
vision ;  let  the  government  of  England,  France  or  America 
adopt  the  project  as  its  ov/n,  and  commission  some  of  its  first 
minds  to  press  it  upon  the  attention  of  other  governments  ;  let 
the  process  go  on,  till  a  call,  loud  as  the  longings  of  a  crushed 
and  bleeding  world  for  relief  from  the  woes  of  war,  shall 
come  forth  to  summon  tlie  wisdom  of  all  Christendom  to  a 
consultation  of  peace,  amity  and  love.  This  done,  the  result 
would  be  certain  ;  for  the  smaller  states  would  rush  for  safety 
to  the  sheltering  wings  of  such  a  confederacy,  nor  would  any 
Christian  or  civilized  nation  long  stand  aloof,  and  brave  the 
scorn  of  a  world. 

The  work  is  already  begun;  and  we  would  urge  every 
lover  of  his  kind  or  his  country  to  lend  it  his  aid.  Petitions 
have  already  been  presented  to  the  British  Parliament ;  and 
the  attention  of  our  own  Congress,  and  several  legislatures, 
has  been  repeatedly  called  to  the  subject.  The  project  is 
now  before  the  nation  and  the  world  with  fair  omens  of  suc- 
cess ;  and  fain  would  Ave  call  upon  all  ministers  of  peace, 
upon  all  churches  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  upon  all  teachers 
in  Christian  seminaries  of  learning,  upon  all  editors  as  the 
lawgivers  or  guardians  of  public  opinion,  upon  all  persons  in 
place  and  power,  upon  every  one  that  has  a  tongue,  a  pen  or 
a  purse  for  any  cause  of  philanthropy,  to  co-operate  in  an 
enterprise  fraught  with  so  many  blessings  to  mankind  through 
all  coming  time. 

Sect.  8. — Sketch   of   past   Attempts   for   something 
LIKE  AN  International  Tribunal. 

History  furnishes  no  exact  or  adequate  model  of  what  we 
propose.  Something  more  or  less  like  it,  has  been  attempted 
under  the  name  of  Councils  or  Leagues,  Diets  or  Congresses ; 
but  none  of  them  included  what  we  deem  most  essential  to 
our  scheme,  while  they  all  relied  on  the  sword  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  their  purpose.  Our  plan,  excluding  the  chiet 
causes  of  their  failure,  obviates  nearly  all  the  objections 
urged  against  those  attempts,  of  which  we  will  briefly  sketch 
the  most  important 


20  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  248 

1.  Tht  Amphidyonic  Council,  embracing  at  first  twelve, 
and  finally  thirty-one  states  or  cities,  was  established  1497 
B.  C.  Rollin  says,  "  it  was,  in  a  manner,  the  holding  of  a 
general  assembly  of  the  Grecian  States.  Its  establishment 
IS  attributed  to  Amphictyon,  king  of  Athens,  whose  chief  aim 
was  to  unite  in  amity  the  several  States  of  Greece,  and  thus 
oblige  them  to  undertake  the  defence  of  each  other,  and  be 
mutually  vigilant  for  the  tranquillity  and  happiness  of  their 
country.  Each  city  sent  two  deputies,  and  had  two  votes  in 
the  Council.  They  hadfvU  power  to  discuss  all  differences  which 
might  arise  between  the  Amphidyonic  cities.'"  "  They  decided," 
says  Rees,  "  all  public  differences  and  disputes  between  any  of 
the  cities  of  Greece ;  and  their  determinations  were  received 
with  the  greatest  veneration,  and  were  ever  held  sacred  and 
inviolable."  The  Council,  though  not  always  successful,  did 
much  to  preserve  peace  among  its  members,  and  continued  in 
spite  of  its  own  degeneracy,  and  the  intrigues  of  Philip  of 
Macedon,  more  tlian  fifteen  centuries ! 

2.  The  Achcpun  League^  formed  at  a  very  early  period,  and 
renewed  in  284  B.  C,  continued  one  hundred  and  thirty-four 
years  longer.  "  Although  each  city,"  says  Rees,  "  was  inde- 
pendent of  the  otliers,  yet  they  formed  one  body ;  and  so  great 
was  their  reputation  for  justice  and  probity,  that  the  Greek 
cities  of  Italy  referred  their  disputes  to  their  arbitration.  The 
Lacedsemonians  and  Thebans  also  referred  to  them  an  inter- 
esting matter  of  dissension  between  themselves.  Having  long 
retained  their  liberty,  they  ceased  not  to  assemble  when  the 
necessity  of  public  deliberation  required  it,  and  even  when 
the  rest  of  Greece  was  tlireatened  Avith  war  and  pestilence." 

3.  Passing  over  other  confederacies  of  antiquity,  we  come 
down  to  the  Hanseatic  League,  begun  in  the  twelfth  century, 
and  completed  near  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth.  It  held 
every  ten  years  an  extraordinary  general  assembly  to  renew 
their  league,  expel  refractory  members,  and  admit  new  ones. 
This  League,  commenced  between  Lubec  and  Hamburgh, 
comprised  at  one  time,  nearly  eighty  cities ;  and  in  1730  its 
regular  number  M^as  sixty-three,  besides  forty-four  towns  con- 
sidered as  allies.  A  system  of  international  laws  loas  adopted 
in  their  general  assemblies.  While  pursuing  a  pacific  pohcy, 
they  flourished  beyond  all  precedent ;  but,  on  becoming  so 
rich,  powerful  and  ambitious  as  to  raise  fleets  and  armies,  they 
provoked  tlie  jealousy  of  other  powers,  and  were  eventually 
reduced  to  three  cities — ^Lubec,  Hamburgh  and  Bremen. 

4.  Tlie  Helvetic  Union  began  so  long  ago  as  1308,  and  has 
sufficed  to  preserve  peace  among  its  members  during  the 
greater  part  of  five  centuries.  "  The  code  of  public  law  be- 
tween the  combined  republics  of  Switzerland,"  says  Rees,  "  is 


24d  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  21 

founded  on  the  treaty  of  Sempatch,  in  1393,  on  the  Conven- 
tion of  Stantz,  and  the  treaty  of  peace  in  1712  at  Aran  be- 
tween the  Protestant  and  Catholic  cantons.  From  these  sev- 
eral treaties,  it  appears,  that  the  Helvetic  Union  is  a  perpetual 
defensive  alliance  between  independent  powers,  to  protect 
each  other  by  their  united  force  against  all  foreign  enemies. 
Another  essential  object  is,  to  preserve  general  peace  and  good 
order,  for  which  purpose  it  is  covenanted,  that  all  public  dis- 
sensions shall  finally  be  settled  between  the  parties  in  an  amica- 
ble inanner ;  and,  ivith  this  view,  particular  judges  and  arbitra- 
tors are  appointed  with  power  to  compose  the  dissensions  which 
may  arise.  To  this  is  added  a  reciprocal  guarantee  of  their 
respective  forms  of  government.  No  separate  engagement 
of  the  cantons  can  be  valid,  if  it  be  inconsistent  with  the 
fundamental  articles  of  this  general  union ;  but,  with  these 
exceptions,  the  combined  states  are  independent  of  each  other, 
and  may  perform  every  act  of  absolute  sovereignty.  The 
ordinary  meeting  of  the  general  diet  is  annually  in  Januafjr ; 
and  each  canton  sends  as  many  deputies  as  it  thinks  proper." 

"No  diversities  of  character  and  state,"  says  another 
writer,  "  are  greater  than  those  which  exist  in  tiiis  confedera- 
tion. It  comprises  people  of  three  distinct  nations,  speaking 
tliree  of  the  prominent  languages  of  Europe ; — the  German 
in  the  east,  the  French  in  the  west,  and  the  Italian  in  the 
south-east.  They  are  divided  into  twenty-two  independent 
states,  each  of  which  has  a  dress  and  manners  in  some  de- 
gree peculiar  to  itself,  and  a  dialect  often  scarcely  intelligible 
to  those  around  it.  The  fornix  of  government  vary  from  the 
purest  democracy,  in  which  every  male  above  the  age  of 
seventeen  is  a  member  of  the  body  which  makes  the  laws,  to 
the  most  rigorous  aristocracy,  in  which  the  offices  are  confined 
almost  entirely  to  patrician  families.  Their  diet  is  a  mere  con- 
vention of  ambassadors  who  merely  treat  with  each  other  accord- 
ing to  the  strict  tenor  of  their  instructions,  and  can  vote  for  no 
law  without  tJie  consent  of  the  government  which  sends  thenu" 

5.  The  Grand  Scheme  of  Henry  IV.,  called  by  the  French 
their  Good  King,  was  started  in  1601.  Whether  his  real  aim 
was  to  defend  Christendom  against  Mohammedans,  or,  more 
probably,  to  humble  the  house  of  Austria,  he  proposed  to 
divide  Europe  into  fifteen  states, — six  hereditary  monarchies, 
five  elective  monarchies,  and  four  republics, — all  of  which  he 
would  fain  have  united  in  one  grand  confederacy,  pledged  with 
the  sword  to  preserve  peace  among  its  members,  and  to  resist 
all  foreign  mvasion.  Henry  gained  the  consent  of  Holland, 
Hesse  Cassel,  Anhalt,  Hungary,  Bohemia,  Lower  Austria, 
several  towns  and  provinces  in  Germany,  the  republic  of 
Switzerland,  and  Queen  Elizabeth  of  England  ;  but  the  dag- 


S3  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  250 

eer  of  the  assassin  Ravillac  put  an  end  in  1610  to  the  life  of 
Henry,  and  to  his  great  scheme. 

Since  the  death  of  Henry  IV.,  no  government  has  agitated 
the  question  of  a  permanent  international  congress.  The 
Holy  Alliance  of  1815  did  not  aim  at  any  such  result;  and, 
though  the  allied  sovereigns  did  well  in  "  declaring  their  un- 
alterable determination  to  take  for  the  rule  of  their  conduct 
alike  in  the  administration  of  their  respective  states,  and  in 
their  political  relations  with  other  governments,  the  precepts 
of  our  holy  religion,  which,  far  from  being  applicable  only  to 
private  life,  ought  on  the  contrary  to  influence  directly  the 
resolves  of  princes,  and  guide  all  their  measures,  as  being  the 
only  means  of  consolidating  human  institutions,  and  remedying 
their  imperfections,"  yet  the  sudden  death,  if  not  the  jealousy, 
of  Alexander,  the  leader  in  the  movement,  prevented  any 
serious  benefit  from  it  to  the  world.  It  was  in  itself  a  noble 
avowal ;  and  well  did  Ex-President  Adams  say  to  the  late 
William  Ladd,  "  the  Holy  Alliance  was  itself  a  tribute  from 
the  mightiest  men  of  the  European  world  to  the  purity  of 
your  principles,  and  the  practicability  of  your  system  for  the 
general  preser\'ation  of  peace." 

Nor  can  we  regard  the  Congress  of  Panama  (1826)  as 
nearly  resembling  our  scheme.  It  was  a  grand  movement ; 
and  its  failure  was  owing  not  so  much  to  the  nature  of  its 
objects,  as  to  the  character  of  the  people  who  called  it,  to  tlie 
obscure  and  inconvenient  place  where  it  was  convened,  and 
still  more  to  its  chief  promoter,  Bolivar,  "  the  Napoleon  of 
this  hemisphere,"  as  John  Q,uincy  Adams  called  him,  "  who 
had  no  more  honest  regard  for  peace  or  human  liberty  than 
had  his  prototype  in  Europe." 

The  movement  of  Henry  IV.  has  served  to  keep  hefore 
Christendom,  the  idea  of  some  common  tribunal  for  the  great 
brotherhood  of  nations.  In  1693  William  Penn  wrote  an  es- 
say, in  which  he  says  of  Henry's  scheme,  "  his  example  tells 
us  that  it  is  fit  to  be  done  ;  Sir  William  Temple's  History  of 
the  United  Provinces  shows,  by  a  surpassing  instance,  that  it 
may  be  done ;  and  Europe,  by  her  incomparable  miseries,  that 
it  ought  to  be  done^  Saint  Pierre,  whadied  in  1743,  published 
on  the  same  subject,  and  by  his  zeal  provoked  from  Voltaire 
the  petulant  remark,  that  "he  was  forever  insisting  on  the 
project  of  a  perpetual  peace,  and  of  a  sort  of  parliament  of 
Europe,  which  he  called  the  European  Diet."  Rousseau, 
charmed  with  the  scheme,  reviewed  it,  and  lent  to  it  all  the 
power  and  fascination  of  his  genius.  We  are  not  aware  that 
any  other  men  of  note  took  up  the  subject  before  the  rise  of 
peace  societies  near  the  downfall  of  Napoleon. 

From  the  first,  however,  have  these  societies  aimed  at  a 


S51  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  23 

congress  of  nations  as  the  perfection  of  all  expedients  for  the 
adjustment  of  national  disputes  without  the  sword.  The 
London  Society  early  said,  that  "  a  court  of  nations  is  the 
end  of  the  operations  of  the  peace  societies."  The  American 
Society  from  its  origin  took  so  deep  an  interest  in  the  subject 
as  to  publish,  soon  after  its  organization,  the  first  essay  in 
modern  times  on  a  congress  of  nations,  from  the  pen  of  the 
late  William  Ladd,  and,  in  1840,  a  large  and  splendid  volume 
of  Essays  for  which  a  premium  of  one  thousand  dollars  had 
been  offered,  and  more  than  forty  competitors  had  contended 
for  the  prize.  The  First  General  Peace  Convention  (1843)  in 
London  recommended  "  a  Congress  of  Nations  to  settle 
and  perfect  the  code  of  international  law,  and  a  High  Court 
OF  Nations  to  interpret  and  apply  that  law  for  the  settlement 
of  all  national  disputes." 

Before  the  year  1830,  a  devoted  friend  of  peace  in  Boston 
had  circulated  a  document  recommending  "  tiie  reference  of 
all  international  disputes  to  a  Court  of  Nations,"  and  readily 
obtained  from  individuals  of  every  rank  and  profession,  the 
signature  of  nine  in  ten  of  those  to  whom  he  presented  it. 
The  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1837,  recom- 
mended "  a  Congress  or  Court  of  Nations  as  at  present 
the  best  practical  method  by  which  disputes  between  nations 
can  be  adjusted,  and  an  appeal  to  arms  avoided ;"  and  re- 
quested "  the  Executive  of  the  United  States  to  open  a  negotia- 
tion with  other  governments  with  a  view  to  effect  so  important 
an  arrangement."  In  1838  the  same  legislature,  with  perfect 
unanimity  in  the  House,  and  only  two  dissenting  votes  in  the 
Senate,  passed  resolves  still  more  explicit,  in  favor  of  "  a 
Congress  of  Nations  ybr  tJie  purpose  of  framing  a  code  of  inter- 
national law,  and  establishing  a  high  court  of  arbitration  for  the 
settlement  of  controversies  between  nations ;"  and  desired  "  the 
Governor  to  transmit  a  copy  to  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  and  to  the  Executive  of  each  State,  to  be  communicated 
to  their  respective  Legislatures,  inviting  their  co-operation." 

While  the  subject  was  thus  pending  in  Massachusetts, 
friends  of  peace  in  several  states  petitioned  Congress  in  1837 
to  settle  by  mutual  reference  our  difficulties  with  Mexico,  and 
also  to  incorporate  the  same  principle  in  a  Congress  of  Na- 
tions as  a  permanent  substitute  for  war.  The  subject  was 
referred ;  and  the  committee  in  their  report  acknowledged, 
"  that  the  union  of  all  nations  in  a  state  of  peace  under  the 
restraints  and  protection  of  law,  is  the  ideal  perfection  of  civil 
society;  that  they  concurred  fully  in  the  benevolent  object  of 
the  memorialists,  and  believed  there  is  a  visible  tendency  in 
the  spirit  and  institutions  of  the  age  towards  the  practical  ac- 
complishment of  it  at  some  future  period ;  that  they  heartily 


^  CONGRESS    OF    NATIONS.  252 

agree  in  recommending  a  reference  to  a  third  power  of  all 
Buch  controversies  as  can  safely  be  confided  to  any  tribunal 
unknown  to  the  constitution  of  our  country  ;  and  that  such  a 
practice  will  be  followed  by  other  powers,  and  will  soon  grow 
up  into  the  customary  law  of  civilized  nations." 

Such  a  response  might  well  encourage  the  friends  of  peace 
to  continue  their  petitions.  It  is  still  before  Congress  ;  and, 
in  1844,  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  in  reply  to  a  single 
petitioner,  took  the  noblest  stand  ever  yet  taken  in  favor  of 
this  scheme.  After  representing  war  as  "  among  the  chief 
(destroyers  of  human  happiness,"  and  saying  that,  "  if  any 
method  can  be  devised  for  the  settlement  of  national  contro- 
versies without  the  evils  of  war,  the  adoption  of  that  method  is 
'  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished,'  "  they  state,  that 
"the  peace  societies  formed  in  this  country  and  in  Europe 
within  the  last  twenty -eight  years,  and  enrolling  some  of  the 
purest  and  most  gifted  minds  in  either  hemisphere,  have 
poured  the  light  of  reason  and  revelation  upon  the  practice 
of  war,  until  multitudes  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  a 
custom  so  fraught  with  evil,  and  so  hostile  to  the  first  princi- 
ples of  religion,  cannot  be  necessary.  It  begins  to  be  exten- 
sively acknowledged,  that  individuals  and  communities  are 
subject  to  the  same  divine  authority,  and  are  bound  to  conduct 
their  affairs,  and  regulate  their  mutual  intercourse  on  the  same 
principles ;  and  therefore,  that  legal  adjudication  should  take 
the  place  of  physical  force,  for  the  maintenance  of  national 
rights  and  interests,  as  it  has  already  with  regard  to  those  of 
a  personal  and  domestic  nature." 

In  the  spirit  of  these  suggestions,  the  Legislature,  with 
great  unanimity,  passed  the  following  resolves : — 

1.  That  we  reguid  arbitration  as  a  practical  and  desirable  subsUtute 
fpr  war,  in  the  at^ustment  of  international  differences. 

2.  That  a  system  of  adjudication,  founded  on  a  well-digested  code  of 
international  laws,  and  administered  by  a  standing  court  or  board  of 
mutual  reference,  is  preferable  to  the  occasional  choice  of  umpires,  who 
act  without  the  aid  or  restriction  of  established  principles  and  rules. 

3.  That  it  is  our  earnest  desire  that  the  government  of  the  United 
States  would,  at  the  earliest  opportunity,  take  measures  for  obtaining 
the  consent  of  the  powers  of  Christendom  to  the  establishment  of  a  Gen- 
eral Convention  or  Congress  of  Nations,  for  the  purpose  of  settling  the 
principles  of  international  law.  and  of  organizing  a  high  court  of  nations, 
to  adjudge  all  cases  of  difficulty  which  may  be  brought  before  them  by 
the  mutual  consent  of  two  or  more  nations. 

4.  That  His  Excellency  the  Governor  be  requested  to  transmit  a  copy 
of  these  resolves,  wth  the  accompanying  report,  to  the  Senators  and 
Representatives  of  Massachusetts  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  Stales, 
with  instructions  to  use  their  influence,  as  they  may  find  occasion,  in 
furtherance  of  this  important  object. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXXI. 

EXTINCTION    OF    WAR.* 


BY    HON.  JOSIAH    QUINCY,  L.L.  D. 

"  In  all  experience  and  stories,"  says  the  great  Bacon,  "  you 
shall  find  but  three  things  that  prepare  and  dispose  an  estate  for 
war — the  ambition  of  the  governors,  a  state  of  soldiery  professed, 
and  the  hard  means  to  live  among  many  subjects,  whereof  the  last 
is  the  most  forcible  and  the  most  constant." 

'  In  reference  to  these  causes  of  war,  it  may  be  asserted  that 
three  facts  exi^  in  the  nature  of  man,  and  the  condition  of  society, 
which  give  rational  ground  for  the  opinion,  that  they  will  be 
gradually  limited  in  their  influence,  and  may  be  made  ultimately 
to  cease  altogether.  The  first  fact  is,  that  man  is  a  being  capable 
of  intellectual  and  moral  improvement ;  the  second,  that  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  improvement  of  our  species  has  already  ad- 
vanced in  this  very  direction  and  on  this  very  subject,  wars  being 
in  fact  far  less  bloody  than  in  former  periods  of  society  ;  and  the 
third,  that  the  intellectual  and  moral  influences  which  have  arisen, 
and  are  extending  themsel¥es  in  the  world,  necessarily  lead  to  a 
favorable  change  in  all  the  enumerated  causes  on  which  the  exist- 
ence of  war  depends,  repressing  the  ambition  of  rulers,  diminish- 
ing the  influence  of  the  soldiery,  and  ameliorating  the  condition 
of  the  multitude. 

At  what  previous  time  did  the  world  exhibit  the  scenes  we  at 
this  day  witness  ?  When  did  science  ever,  until  this  period,  pre- 
sent itself  to  the  entire  mass  of  the  community  as  their  inheritance 
and  right  ?  No  more  immured  in  cells,  no  more  strutting  with  pedant 
air  and  forbidding  looks,  in  secluded  halls,  it  adapts  itself  to  real 
life,  to  use,  and  to  man.  It  is  seen  in  the  field,  leaning  on  the 
plough  ;  at  the  work-bench,  directing  the  plane  and  the  saw  ;  in 
the  high  places  of  the  city,  converting  by  their  wealth  and  their 
liberality,  merchants  into  princes  ;  in  the  retirement  of  domestic 
life,  refining  the  virtues  of  a  sex  in  whose  purity  and  elevation  man 
attains  at  once  the  noblest  earthly  reward,  and  the  highest  earthly 
standard  of  his  moral  and  intellectual  nature.  And  can  know- 
ledge advance,  and  virtue  be  retrograde  ? 

If  such  be  the  fact,  why  should  not  the  species  continue  to  ad- 
vance ?  Is  nature  exhausted  ?  On  the  contrary,  what  half  century 
can  pretend  to  vie  with  the  last  in  improvement  in  the  arts,  in 
advancement  in  the  sciences,  in  the  zeal  and  success  of  intellectual 
labors  ?  Time  would  fail  to  enumerate  all ;  let  one  suffice. 
Scarcely  ten  years  have  elapsed,  since  the  projects  of  Fulton  were 
the  common  sneer  of  multitudes.  He  indeed  has  already  joined  the 
great  congregation  of  departed  men  of  genius  ;  but  where  are  his 

*  From  Pres.  Quincy's  Address  before  the  Mass  Peace  Society  in  1820. 

P.  T.     NO.  x;xxi, 


2  EXTINCTION    OF    WAR.  254 

inventions  ?  Penetrating  the  interior  of  this  new  worid,  smoking 
along  our  rivers,  climbing  witliout  canvass  the  mountains  of  the 
deep,  carrying  commerce  and  comforts,  unknown  and  unantici- 
pated, to  inland  regions,  and  already  establishing  a  new  era  in 
navigation,  and  new  facilities  for  human  intercourse,  incalculable 
in  benefits  and  in  consequences. 

So  far  from  having  any  reason  to  believe  that  human  improve- 
ment is  stationEiry,  or  is  henceforth  to  be  retrograde,  there  is  just 
reason  to  believe  that  it  will  advance  with  a  rapidity  and  univer- 
sality never  before  witnessed.  There  are  two  facts  characteristic 
of  tlie  present  age,  which  encourage  this  belief;  tlie  first  is  tlie 
universal  diffusion  of  knowledge,  and  the  second  is  the  facility  with 
which  this  diffusion  is  effected.  At  the  present  day,  not  the  few 
only,  but  the  many  are  every  where  rising  gradually  into  influence 
and  power.  Moral  and  intellectual  cultivation  are  no  more  restricted 
to  a  few  favored  individuals,  but  proffered  to  the  whole  species. 
The  light  and  warmth  of  science  are  permitted  to  penetrate  the 
lowest  strata  of  society,  reaching  deptiis  never  before  explored. 
The  press,  also,  by  its  magic  power  almost  annihilates  time  and 
space,  pervading  every  class  and  every  climate,  approximating  the 
world  to  a  state  of  general  society,  in  which  the  bond  of  man  to 
man  is  recognized,  and  humanity  is  becoming  every  day  less  and 
less  the  dupe  of  intrigue  and  artifica  Mind  embraces  mind,  in 
spite  of  intervening  seas,  or  wildernesses. 

A  i>eople  highly  moral  and  highly  intellectual,  would  not  endure 
the  existence  of  such  a  distinct  class  as  Bacon's  "  soldiery  pro- 
fessed." They  would  realize  that  the  principle  of  military  life 
resulted  in  making  moral  agents  machines,  free  citizens  slaves  ; 
that  a  soldier  can  have  no  will  but  his  officer's,  and  know  no  law 
but  his  commands ;  with  him  conscience  has  no  force.  Heaven  no 
authority,  and  conduct  but  one  rule, — implicit,  military  obedience. 

If  it  be  asked,  how  a  nation  destitute  of  a  military  class,  can  be 
Bafe  from  foreign  violence  and  invasion,  it  may  be  answered,  first, 
that  the  existence  of  such  a  class  is  ever  a  main  inducement  both 
to  the  one  and  the  other.  For  either  your  military  force  is  weaker 
than  your  neighbor's,  in  which  case  he  is  insolent ;  or  it  is  stronger, 
in  which  case  you  are  so ;  or  it  is  equal,  in  which  case  the  very 
uncertainty  begets  in  both  a  spirit  of  rivalry,  of  jealousy  and  oi' 
war.  Secondly,  all  experience  has  shown  that  a  well  appointed 
militia,  defending  their  own  altars  and  homes,  are  competent  to 
every  purpose  of  repelling  foreign  violence  and  invasion.  Thirdly, 
a  society  which  should  engage  in  no  intrigues,  covet  no  foreign 
possessions,  and  exemplify  in  all  its  conduct  a  spirit  of  justice, 
moderation,  and  regard  for  the  rights  of  others,  would  assume  a 
position  the  most  favorable  to  predispose  its  neighbors  to  adopt 
towards  it  a  kind  and  peaceable  demeanor. 

The  amelioration  of  the  moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  man, 
is  not,  however,  at  this  day  peculiar  to  any  one  nation.  In  a 
greater  or  .less  degree,  it  is  incident  to  all.  By  commerce,  by  the 
press,  by  a  very  general  acquaintance  with  each  other's  language, 
by  ideniity  of  pursuits,  similarity  in  the  objects  of  religious  faith, 


I 


255 


EXTINCTION    OF    WAR 


and  coincidence  of  interests,  the  various  nations  compo^ng  the 
civilized  quarters  of  the  globe,  have  mutually  elevated  and  in- 
structed, and  are  every  day  mutually  elevating  and  instructing 
one  another.  Thought  and  invention,  in  any  one  nation,  exist  for 
the  common  benefit  of  all. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive,  that  the  extension  of  these 
influences  among  the  mass  of  mankind  must,  even  in  Europe,  tend 
to  diminish  the  recurrence  of  war,  not  only  from  the  reasons  and 
consequences  already  urged,  but  also  from  tlie  actual  state  of 
European  soldiery  ;  the  necessary  result  of  their  education,  their 
habits,  and  their  relations  to  society.  We  can  scarcely  form  an 
idea,  of  the  degraded  moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  the  mere 
soldiery  of  Europe,  Their  own  statesmen  and  historians  seem  at 
a  loss  to  express  their  abhorrence  of  the  whole  class.  "  War 
makes  thieves,"  says  Machiavel,  who  was  himself  no  enemy  to  the 
profession,  "  and  peace  hangs  them.  For  those  who  know  not 
how  to  get  their  bread  in  any  other  way,  when  they  are  disbanded 
and  out  of  employ,  disdaining  poverty  and  obscurity,  are  forced  to 
have  recourse  to  such  ways  of  supporting  themselves,  as  generally 
bring  them  to  the  gallows."  The  experience  of  our  own  day  is 
not  very  different  And  what  better  can  be  expected  from  men 
sold  like  slaves  from  one  despot  to  another,  contracting  to  do 
the  work  of  murder  for  hire,  careless  foi  whom,  indifferent  against 
^hom,  or  for  what  ? 

It  is  impossible,  without  recurrence  to  feelings  and  sentiments 
of  a  higher  and  purer  nature  than  those  induced  by  common  life, 
to  do  justice  to  the  deep  moral  depravity,  and  the  cruel,  blood- 
stained scenes  of  ordinary  warfare.  Alas !  how  must  they  be 
viewed  by  higher  intelligences !  Imagine  one  of  these  celestial 
spirits  bent  on  this  great  purpose,  descending  upon  our  globe,  and 
led  by  chance  to  an  European  plain  at  the  point  of  some  gTeat 
battle.  On  a  sudden,  the  field  of  combat  opens  on  his  astonished 
vision.  It  is  a  field  which  men  call  glorious.  A  hundred  thou- 
sand warriors  stand  in  opposing  ranks.  Light  gleams  on  their 
burnished  steels.  Their  plumes  and  banners  wave.  Hill  echoes 
to  hill  the  noise  of  moving  rank  and  squadron,  the  neigh  and 
tramp  of  steeps,  the  trumpet,  drum  and  bugle-call. 

There  is  a  momentary  pause,  a  silence  like  that  which  precedes 
the  fall  of  the  thunderbolt,  like  that  awful  stillness  which  is  pre- 
cursor to  the  desolating  rage  of  the  whirlwind.  In  an  instant, 
flash  succeeding  flash  pours  columns  of  smoke  along  the  plain. 
The  iron  tempest  sweeps,  heaping  man,  horse  and  car  in  undis- 
tinguished ruin.  In  shouts  of  rushing  hosts,  in  shock  of  breasting 
steeds,  in  peals  of  musketry,  in  the  roar  of  artillery,  in  the  clash 
of  sabres,  in  thick  and  gathering  clouds  of  smoke  and  dust,  all 
human  eye,  and  ear,  and  sense  are  lost.  Man  sees  not,  but  the 
sign  of  onset.     Man  hears  not,  but  the  cry  of  onward ! 

Not  so  the  celestial  stranger.  His  spiritual  eye  unobscured  by 
artificial  night,  his  spiritual  ear  unaffected  by  mechanic  noise, 
witness  the  real  scene,  naked  in  all  its  cruel  horrors.     He  sees 


4  EXTINCTION    OF    WAR.  256 

lopped  and  bleeding  linabs  scattered ;  gashed,  dismembered  trunks 
outspread ;  gore-clotted,  lifeless  brains  bursting  from  cruslied 
skulls ;  blood  gushing  from  sabred  necks ;  severed  heads  whose 
mouths  mutter  rage  amidst  the  palsying  of  tlie  last  agony.  He 
hears  the  mingled  cry  of  anguish  and  despair  issuing  from  a  thou- 
sand bosoms  in  which  a  thousand  bayonets  turn,  the  convulsive 
scream  of  anguish  from  heaps  of  mangled,  half-expiring  victims 
over  whom  the  heavy  artillery  wheels  lumber  and  crush  into  one 
mass,  bone,  and  muscle,  and  sinew,  while  the  fetlock  of  the  war- 
horse  drips  with  blood  starting  from  the  last  palpitation  of  the 
burst  heart  on  which  his  hoof  pivots.  "  This  is  not  earth,"  would 
not  such  a  celestial  stranger  exclaim  ?  "  this  is  not  earth, — this*  is 
hell !    This  is  not  man,  but  demon  tormenting  demon  ! " 

Surely  it  needs  no  aid  from  prophecy,  none  from  revelation,  to 
foretel  that  such  a  custom,  the  greatest  yet  remaining  curse  and 
shame  of  our  rax;e,  shall  retire  to  be  remembered  only  with  a 
mingled  sentiment  of  disgust  and  wonder,  like  the  Avar-feast  of 
the  savage,  like  the  perpetual  slavery  of  captives,  like  the  pledge 
of  revenge  in  the  skull-bowl  of  Odin,  like  the  murder  of  helots  in 
Greece,  and  of  gladiators  in  Rome,  like  the  witch-burnings,  the 
Smithfield-fires,  and  St  Bartholomew-massacres  of  modern  times. 

If  these  anticipations  have  any  color  of  hope  amid  the  an- 
tique customs  and  thronged  population  of  Europe,  how  just  and 
how  bright  are  they  in  this  favored  country,  where  God  and  na- 
ture combine  to  invite  man  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  new  and 
happy  era  for  our  race!  How  does  the  moral,  intellectual  and 
local  condition  of  the  United  States  combine  to  repress  all  tlie 
three  causes  "  which  prepare  and  dispose  states  for  war,"  first,  by 
elevating  and  improving  the  condition  of  the  people ;  secondly, 
by  restraining  the  ambition  of  rulers ;  and  thirdly,  by  rendering  it 
easy,  if  we  will,  to  expunge  the  entire  class  of  "  soldiers  professed." 

The  reasons  of  this  belief,  take  with  you  into  life.  Carrj'  them 
into  the  haunts  of  men,  and  press  iherA  upon  all  who  guide  and  in- 
fluence society.  Make,  if  possible,  a  recognition  of  them  a  con- 
dition of  political  power.  Above  all,  satisfy  the  people  of  their 
true  interests.  Show  your  fellow-citizens  of  this  country,  and  tlie 
men  of  every  other,  that  war  is  a  game  ever  played  for  the  ag- 
grandizement of  the  few,  and  for  the  impoverishment  of  the  many ; 
tliat  those  who  play  it  voluntarily,  do  it  always  for  selfish,  never 
for  public  purposes;  that  war-establishments  are  every  where 
scions  of  despotism;  that,  when  engrafted  on  republics,  they  al-  .  J 
ways  begin  by  determining  the  best  sap  to  their  own  branch,"  and  '  1 
never  fail  to  finish  by  withering  every  branch  except  their  own. 
Be  not  discouraged.  Set  before  your  eyes  the  glorious  nature 
of  the  object  at  which  you  aim.  Absolute  failure  is  impossible, 
because  your  purposes  concur  with  all  the  suggestions  of  rea- 
son, with  all  the  indications  of  nature,  with  all  3ie  testimony  of 
history,  and  all  the  promises  of  religion. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


I 


No.  XXXII. 

'       WAR   UNCHRISTIAN.       ,. 


The  Bible,  as  the  record  of  God's  will,  is  the  Christian's  rule 
of  duty.  By  this  standard  have  a  multitude  of  practices  once  cur- 
rent in  Christendom,  been  already  tried,  and  condemned  as  un- 
christian; every  other  usage  of  society,  however  hallowed  by 
time,  must  eventually  be  brought  to  the  same  test ;  and  we  propose 
now  to  look  at  war  in  the  light  of  revelation,  and  inquire  whether 
the  GOSPEL  alloios  it  in  any  case. 

Let  us  first  clear  our  way  to  this  point  Many  of  the  old  argu- 
ments for  war  are  too  absurd  or  too  cold-blooded  to  deserve  a  mo- 
ment's consideration.  It  used  to  be  gravely  asserted,  that  war  is 
a  healthful  stimulus  to  the  body  politic  ;  that  it  tends,  if  it  be  not 
indispensable,  to  preserve  nations  from  degeneracy  ;  that  it  is  the 
natural  state  of  mankind,  the  general  law  of  their  being,  and 
peace  the  exception  ;  that  it  acts  as  a  sewer  to  drain  off  the  dregs 
of  ignorance,  vice  and  crime  ;  that  it  is  even  necessary,  like  occa- 
sional depletion  in  the  human  frame,  to  prevent  a  superabundance 
of  population  and  wealth.  Such  assumptions,  however  strange  and 
savage,  have  been  seriously  maintained  by  eminent  statesmen, 
philosophers  and  theologians ;  but,  true  or  false,  what  have  they  to 
do  with  the  question,  whether  the  gospel  sanctions  war  ?  Dram- 
shops, gaming-houses  and  brothels  serve  in  like  manner  to  drain 
off  the  refuse  of  society  ;  but  can  such  a  fact  prove  that  the  Bible 
allows  all  the  abominations  practised  in  those  purlieus  of  hell  ? 

We  are  told,  however,  that  war  furnishes  employment  and 
a  livelihood  for  vast  multitudes. — So  does  idolatry  ;  so  does  the 
slave-trade  ;  so  do  counterfeiters,  robbers  and  pirates  live  by  their 
villanies ;  but  does  this  prove  such  practices  to  be  consistent  with 
the  gospel  ? 

We  are  oflen  reminded,  that  war  developes  some  of  the  noblest 
traits  of  character,  such  as  spirit,  courage,  talent,  ingenuity,  skill, 
indomitable  perseverance. — Be  it  so ;  but  every  species  of  high- 
handed wickedness  calls  forth  the  same  qualities.  It  requires  the 
union  of  them  all  to  make  a  consummate  villain,  a  man  that  can 
rob,  or  forge,  or  counterfeit  with  success  on  a  large  scale ; 
and  in  our  state-prisons  you  will  find  some  of  the  strongest, 
shrewdest,  boldest  minds,  the  very  metal  that  makes  heroes.  Will 
this  prove  that  the  Bible  tolerates  such  crimes  ?  If  war  occasion- 
ally produces  instances  of  self-sacrificing  patriotism,  we  reply  that 
such  patriotism  is  not  the  fruit  of  war ;  and,  even  if  it  were,  you 
may  often  find  essentially  the  same  in  a  crew  of  pirates,  every  one 
of  whom  is  just  as  selfish  in  fighting  for  the  whole  gang,  as  he 
would  be  in  fighting  for  himself  alone. 

p.  T.       NO.  XXXII. 


2  WAR  lnchristiXn.  258 

It  is  said,  however,  that  war,  unlike  the  offences  we  have  speci- 
fied, is  enjoined  by  government,  and  thus  becomes  the  duty  of  its 
subjects. — War  right  because  rulers  enjoin  it !  Can  they  make  it 
right  to  do  what  God  forbids  ?  Does  he  authorize  any  of  his  crea- 
tures to  nullify  his  own  statutes  ?  Because  governments  nominally 
Christian  have  legalized  the  slave-trade,  and  duelling,  and  licen- 
tiousness, and  idolatry,  are  such  iniquities  for  such  a  reason  con- 
sistent with  the  gospel  ? 

But  our  ablest  writers  on  ethics  aver,  that  self-(kfence  will  justify 
ANT  extremes. — We  admit  this  to  be  the  common  notion  ;  but  is  it 
a  doctrine  of  the  gospel  ?  We  challenge  you  to  find  the  slightest 
intimation  of  it  in  the  New  Testament  Does  Christ  or  his  Apos- 
tles tell  me  I  may  do  any  thing  I  please,  to  save  my  life  ?  May  I 
renounce  his  gospel,  and  worship  idols  ?  If  not,  then  there  is  some- 
thing which  I  may  not  do  even  in  defence  of  my  life.  You  say, 
however,  I  may  kill  my  assailant  for  such  a  purpose  ;  but  how  do 
you  know  I  may  ?  Does  the  gospel  tell  me  so  ?  Where  ?  Show 
me  the  chapter  and  verse. — The  early  Christians  could  have  es- 
caped the  stake  by  denying  their  Savior,  and  joining  anew  in  the 
worship  of  idols.  Did  the  gospel  permit  them  to  save  their  life  on 
such  terms  ?  Did  any  of  them  so  understand  it  ?  Then  there  was 
one  thing  which  they  might  not  do  even  to  save  their  lives ;  but 
why  not  do  that  ?  Solely  because  God  forbade  it ;  and,  if  he  does 
not  expressly  permit  me  to  kill  in  self-defence,  then  have  I  no 
more  right  to  transgress  the  command,  tJiou  shalt  not  kill,  than  I 
have  to  renounce  Christianity,  or  violate  any  and  all  the  other  pre- 
cepts of  the  Bible. — But  let  me  suppose  myself  in  a  Mohammedan 
country  under  such  circumstances,  that  I  cannot  save  my  life  by 
taking  that  of  my  assailant,  but  can  by  renouncing  my  religion. 
A  follower  of  Mohammed,  with  his  foot  on  my  neck,  and  his 
scimitar  brandished  over  my  head,  exclaims,  *  deny  the  Nazarine, 
and  believe  in  God's  Prophet,  or  die.'  Now,  I  cannot  kill  the 
savage  zealot,  but  can  comply  with  his  terms.  May  I  do  so  ? 
Why  not  ?  Simply  because  God  does  not  permit  it;  and  I  have  just 
as  little  right,  without  his  permission,  to  save  my  life  by  killing 
my  assailant.  It  can  avail  notliing  to  say,  that  such  a  man  deserv^ 
to  die ;  for  this  would  not  prove,  that  I  have  a  right  to  kill  him. 
So  may  the  persecutor  equally  deserve  death ;  but  what  martyr 
ever  dreamed  of  taking  the  life  of  his  persecutors  to  save  his  own  ? 
Where  does  the  gospel  allow  it  ? 

Still  we  are  triumphantly  told,  that  self-preservation  is  the  frst 
law  of  our  nature. — If  it  be  so,  every  one  knows  that  self-denial  is 
tlie  first  law  of  Christ's  kingdom ;  and  the  only  question  is,  which 
law  is  paramount  ?  Is  instinct  the  rule  of  our  dutv,  the  Christian's 
standard  of  right  and  wrong  ?  It  may  be  said,' as  it  has  been, 
that  tliese  instincts  are  the  first  edition  of  God's  revelation  to  man- 
kind ;  but  we  are  now  inquiring  what  he  teaches  in  the  last  and 
perfect  edition  of  his  revealed  will.  This  very  argument  infidel 
libertines,  in  the  time  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  employed  to  jus- 
tify unrestrained  licentiousness,  and  insisted  on  its  being  right  for 
the  debauchee  to  indulge  at  will  those  passions  which  God  im- 


259  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  3 

planted  in  his  nature.  Do  you  scout  such  logic  ?  Well  may  you ; 
but  wherein  does  it  differ  from  your  own  ?  You  plead  instinct ;  so 
did  they  ;  and  we  see  not  why  infidels  may  not,  if  Christians  may, 
appeal  to  the  instincts  of  our  fallen  nature  against  the  commands 
of  God. — But  we  admit  both  the  right  and  the  duty  of  preserving 
our  own  lives,  yet  insist  that  we  are  not  at  liberty  for  this  purpose 
to  do  any  thing  which  God  forbids.  I  must,  if  not  worse  than  an 
infidel,  provide  for  "  those  of  my  own  housefhold  ; "  but  does  this 
authorize  me  to  use  for  the  purpose  any  means  I  choose  ?  May  I 
steal,  and  rob,  and  murder  ?  You  say  these  are  not  necessary, 
just  as  we  say  they  are  not  necessary  for  self-defence  ;  but,  if 
'  necessary,  does  the  right  or  even  the  duty  of  supporting  or  de- 
fending myself  and  my  family,  justify  a  resort  to  such  crimes  ?  If 
admissible  in  one  case,  they  are  equally  so  in  the  other ;  but  the 
truth  is,  we  are  neither  required  nor  permitted^to  support  our  fam- 
ilies, or  preserve  our  lives,  unless  we  can  do  it  without  disobeying 
God.  The  right  of  self-defence  does  not  involve  the  right  to  kill 
for  the  purpose,  unless  God  requires  or  permits  it ;  and  hence  the 
original  question  returns  in  its  full  force,  does  God  allow  us,  when 
we  honestly  think  we  must  either  kill  or  be  killed,  to  take  the  life 
of  our  assailant  rather  than  lose  our  own?  Here  is  the  whole 
point  at  issue  ;  and  it  can  be  met  only  by  an  express  permission 
in  the  New  Testament,  since  the  plea  of  self-defence,  or  self- 
preservation,  does  not  even  touch  it. — If  it  did,  however,  it  would 
not  settle  the  lawfulness  of  war ;  because  you  cannot  find  in  all 
profane  history  any  war  in  which  the  only  alternative  for  a  people 
was  either  to  kill  or  be  killed,  After  they  began  to  fight,  that  ivas 
the  alternative ;  but,  had  they  at  the  outset  chosen  to  submit,  they 
might  have  been  spared.  The  only  exception  I  recollect,  is 
found  in  the  Jewish  wars  of  extermination  against  the  inhabitants 
of  Canaan ;  and  it  is  quite  remarkable,  that  in  those  cases  the  ag- 
gressors were  justified,  and  the  defenders  condemned  by  Jehovah 
himself. 

We  are  next  referred  to  the  Jewish  wars  which  God  expressly 
enjoined  or  permitted. — But  this  command  or  permission  just  neu- 
tralizes their  example  as  a  guide  to  us.  God  bade  Abraham  sacri- 
fice Isaac.  Will  this  justify  parents  now  in  murdering  their  chil- 
dren at  pleasure  ?  God  commanded  Moses  to  stone  the  Sabbath- 
breaker  to  death.  Are  we  bound  to  do  the  same  ?  God  indulged 
patriarchs  in  polygamy  and  concubinage.  Does  their  example 
make  such  things  lawful  for  us  ? — We  are  reminded,  however, 
that  God  could  never  have  enjoined  or  permitted  any  thing  that  is 
necessarily  wrong.  Few  things  are  so  ;  but,  if  not  necessarily 
wrong,  who  now  regards  filicide,  and  polygamy,  and  concubinage, 
and  arbitrary  divorce,  and  many  other  practices  allowed  to  the 
Israelites,  as  lawful  under  the  gospel  ?  Ours  is  a  higher  dispen- 
sation than  theirs ;  our  Savior  expressly  condemns  things  in  which 
they  had  been  confessedly  indulged ;  arid  hence  the  question  for 
us  to  meet  is,  whether  the  gospel  sanctions  the  practice  of  war ; 
a  question  not  to  be  answered  by  appeals  to  the  Old  Testament. — 
But  the  wars  of  the  Israelites  were  properly  penal  executions ; 


4  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  260 

merely  the  infliction  of  such  penalties  as  God  himself  prescribed 
against  transgressors  of  his  law.  Should  a  bevy  of  constables 
attempt  to  imprison  or  execute  a  gang  of  sentenced  criminals,  and 
meet  from  them  a  desperate  and  bloody  resistance,  would  the  con- 
flict deserve  to  be  called  war  ?  Yet  such  were  the  wars  of  the 
Israelites.  The  idolaters  of  Canaan  had  committed  high  treason 
against  Heaven ;  God  denounced  upon  them  the  penalty  of  utter 
extermination  ;  the  Israelites  were  commissioned  to  inflict  tliis 
penalty ;  and  all  tliey  did,  resembles  an  execution  far  more  than  it 
does  war.  God  assumed  the  whole  responsibility  of  the  deed ;  the 
.Israelites  were  mere  executioners  of  his  will. — But  those  wars 
were  distinguished  from  all  others  by  two  peculiarities ;  they  oc- 
cured  under  a  theocracy,  a  government  of  which  God  himself  was 
the  head ;  and  they  were  expressly  enjoined  or  permitted  by  him. 
Since  the  close  of  revelation,  men  cannot  be  placed  in  the  same 
circumstances,  and  therefore  can  never  apply  to  themselves  this 
example  of  the  Israelites. — If  applied,  however,  the  example  would 
prove  too  much.  The  chief  wars  of  the  Israelites  were  wars  of 
aggression,  conquest  and  utter  extermination ;  and  such  an  ex- 
ample, if  it  proves  any  tiling,  would  justify  tlie  most  horrid,  whole- 
sale butcheries  ever  committed  in  war.  Does  the  objector  aim  to 
prove  su(h  wars  consistent  with  the  gospel  ?  If  not,  he  should 
never  quote  those  of  tlie  Israelites. 

We  will  merely  say  further,  how  suspicious  it  is,  that  Chris- 
tians, with  God's  last  and  best  revelation  in  their  hands,  should 
leave  this,  and  go  back  in  search  of  apologies  for  war,  to  a  dis- 
pensation acknowledged  by  all  to  have  been  comparatively  imper- 
fect and  dark !  Why  plunge  thus  from  tlie  splendors  of  noon 
into  tlie  darkness  of  midnight,  or  the  duskiness  of  early  dawn  ? 
We  ask  what  the  gospel  says ;  and  why  not  let  tlie  gospel  at  once 
speak  for  itself?  Go  to  its  heaven-illuminated  pages,  and  show 
the  passage  that  sanctions  war ;  then,  and  only  then,  can  any  hon- 
est mind  be  satisfied. 

But  we  are  sometimes  told,  that  God,  even  before  the  birth  of 
Abraham,  proclaimed  to  the  whole  human  race  as  a  universal,  ir- 
revocable law,  "  whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his 
blood  be  shed." — Now,  admitting  what  is  nevertheless  denied  by 
some  of  our  ablest  commentators,  that  the  common  interpretation 
of  this  passage  is  correct,  it  would  still  puzzle  any  one  to  tell 
what  bearing  it  can  have  on  the  custom  of  war,  except  to  con- 
demn this  blood-leech  of  the  world.  Taken  literally,  it  would 
allow  us  to  kill  an  assailant  only  ajler  he  had  actually  she'd  blood, 
and  would  moreover  require  all  warriors,  whose  sole  business  is 
the  shedding  of  blood,  to  be  hung  without  mercy. 

Passing  to  the  New  Testament,  we  are  met  first  witli  the  plea, 
that  John  the  Baptist  did  not  require  the  soldiers  who  came  to  him 
for  instruction,  to  quit  the  army. — Now,  we  submit,  that  John,  the 
forerunner  of  Christ,  belonged  not  to  the  Christian,  but  to  the 
Jewish  dispensation ;  and  hence  his  reply,  whatever  it  might  be, 
could  not  prove  war  to  be  consistent  with  Christianity,  because  it 
has  no  bearing  on  the  point     Even  if  admitted,  to  what  does  it 


261  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  ,  6 

amount?  He  did  not  bid  the  soldiers  abandon  their  occupation ;  nor 
did  Christ  tell  the  woman  of  Samaria  to  cease  from  her  adulteries, 
or  any  others  to  relinquish  the  business  in  which  they  had  been 
engaged.  The  grossest  idolatry  formed  a  part  of  the  Roman  mili- 
tary service.  Did  John's  answer  justify  that  ?  "  Do  violence  to 
no  man,  and  be  content  with  your  wages,"  said  the  Baptist ;  and 
what  sort  of  a  soldier  would  he  be  who  should  "  do  violence  to  no 
man ' " 

'  But  the  New  Testament  nowhere  condemns  war  by  »ia7ne.' — We 
■  deny  the  assertion;  but,  if  true,  what  does  it  prove?  The  New 
Testament  does  not  in  this  way  condemn  polygamy  or  concubin- 
age, gambling  or  suicide,  duelling,  the  slave-trade  or  piracy;  but 
does  the  gospel  allow  such  practices  merely  because  it  does  not 
denounce  them  by  name'?  It  does  condemn  what  constitutes 
them,  every  one  of  their  moral  elements ;  a  mode  of  condemna- 
tion much  less  equivocal,  and  far  more  decisive. 

Equally  futile  is  the  plea,  that  neither  Christ  nor  his  Apostles 
ever  expressly  censured  the  profession  of  arms. — Nor  did  they 
thus  censure  other  professions  or  employments  ;  and  this  argument, 
if  it  proves  any  thing,  would  justify  almost  every  species  of  wick- 
edness prevalent  in  their  day.  Because  our  Savior  did  not  con- 
demn the  religion  of  the  Syrophenician  woman  that  came  to  him, 
Matt.  XV.  21 — 28,  does  the  gospel  sanction  idolatry  ?  Because  he 
did  not  reprove  the  woman  of  Samaria  at  Jacob's  well,  for  the 
adultery  and  concubinage  in  whicli  she  had  lived  for  years,  John 
iv.  7 — 30,  are  we  to  regard  his  silence  in  tlie  case  as  an  approval 
of  such  things  ?  Because  he  did  not  expressly  condemn  the 
former  profession  even  of  the  penitent  Magdalene,  Luke  vii.  37 — 50, 
does  tlie  gospel  connive  at  harlotry?  Surely  a  cause  must  be 
hard  pushed,  that  seeks  refuge  in  such  sophistries. 

Essentially  the  same  answer  may  be  given  to  the  case  of  the 
"  centurion  having  soldiers  under  him,"  who  besought  that  his 
servant  might  be  healed,  and  of  whom  our  Savior  said,  "  I  have 
not  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel,"  Matt.  viii.  5 — 13 ;  and  to 
the  still  more  striking  case  of  "Cornelius,  a  centurion,  a  devout  man, 
one  that  feared  God,  gave  much  alms,  and  prayed  to  God  always," 
Acts  x.  1 — 35.  Make  the  most  of  these  cases ;  and  what  do  they 
prove  ?  Merely  that  men,  under  the  Jewish  dispensation  to  which 
they  both  belonged  at  the  time,  might  be  devout,  and  still  remain 
soldiers ;  a  position  Avhich  nobody  disputes.  Neither  Christ  nor 
Peter  says  a  word  respecting  their  profession,^  but  they  leave  us  to 
determine  in  other  ways  whether  it  is  consistent  with  the  gospel ; 
their  usual  mode  of  treating  the  former  profession  or  employment 
of  converts  to  Christianity.  Idolatry  was  an  essential  part  of  the 
profession  of  those  centurions  ;  and,  if  the  notice  taken  of  them 
as  devout  men,  proves  the  military  part  to  be  right,  it  equally 
proves  the  idolatrous  part  to  be  so.  The  truth  is,  those  men  were 
first  soldiers,  then  Christians ;  nor  have  we  the  slightest  proof  that 
they  remained  in  the  profession  of  arms,  but  strong  presumptive 
evidence  that  tliey  relinquished  it,  both  from  the  idolatrous  rites 


^  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  262 

which  it  enjoined,  and  from  the  fact  that  there  is  no  authentic 
record,  for  the  two  or  three  first  centuries,  of  a  single  Christian 
continuing  in  the  trade  of  blood. 

Biit  we  are  gravely  told,  that  our  Savior,  with  a  scourge  of 
small  cords,  drove  the  dealers  in  cattle  from  the  temple,  John  ii. 
14 — 17. — But  what  has  this  case  to  do  with  war?  Before  it  can 
touch  the  present  question,  you  must  prove,  not  only  that  Christ 
drove  out  the  cattle  with  the  cords,  but  actually  killed  their  owners, 
since  this  alone  resembles  war ;  and  that  his  example,  thus  ex- 
plained, he  left  on  record  expressly  for  tlie  guidance  of  govern- 
menls  in  settling  their  disputes ! ! 

We  are  reminded,  however,  of  our  duty  to  obey  civil  govern- 
ment as  "  an  ordinance  of  God ; "  and  hence  the  alleged  right  and 
even  obligation  of  Christians  to  engage  in  war  at  the  call  of  their 
rulers. — Now,  there  is  not  in  all  tlie  New  Testament  a  syllable 
that  requires  or  permits  us  to  disobey  God  at  the  bidding  of  our 
rulers  ;  and  both  Christ,  his  Apostles,  and  all  his  early  disciples, 
uniformly  refused,  at  the  hazard  of  their  lives,  to  obey  any  requisi- 
tion of  civil  government  that  involved  disobedience  to  God.  The 
question  tlien  returns,  does  the  gospel  allow  war  ?  If  so,  then  we 
may  wage  it  at  the  command  of  our  rulers  ;  but,  if  not,  no  human 
authority  can  make  it  right  for  us  to  do  so. 

'  But  our  Savior  himself  bade  his  disciples  procure  swords  even 
by  selling  tlieir  garments.'  Luke  xxii.  35 — 38 ;  Matt  xxvi.  51 — 53. — 
We  will  not  here  attempt  a  full  explanation  of  this  vexed  passage ; 
it  is  enough  for  our  present  purpose  to  say,  that  no  interpretation 
can  make  it  sanction  any  use  of  the  sword  even  in  self-defence. 
When  one  of  his  disciples  said,  "  Lord,  here  are  two  swords,"  he 
replied,  "  it  is  enough."  Tivo  swords  enough  to  arm  twelve  men 
against  the  whole  power  of  the  government  arrayed  against 
them ! !  When  one  of  them,  at  the  crisis  of  danger,  asked,  "  Lord, 
shall  we  smite  with  the  sword  ? "  he  gave  no  answer  that  is  re- 
corded ;  but  his  influence  in  restraining  the  disciples  from  vio- 
lence, proves  again  that  he  did  not  design  the  effusion  of  blood. 
Nor  did  he  need  tlie  sword  for  his  protection,  since  he  might  at 
will  have  brought  to  his  rescue  "  more  than  twelve  legions  of 
angels."  When  Peter,  mistaking  his  Master's  design,  or  yielding 
to  his  own  passions,  drew  his  sword,  and  smote  the  servant's  ear, 
Christ  performed  a  miracle  to  heal  the  wound,  and  added  this  de- 
cisive rebuke  of  violent  self-defence,  "  put  up  thy  sword ;  for  all 
they  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  by  the  sword."  When 
brought  before  Pilate,'  and  taunted  for  his  easy  surrender  by  his 
disciples,  he  states  the  reason  why  they  did  not  fight  in  his  de- 
fence :  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  If  my  kingdom  were 
of  this  world,  then  M'ould  my.  servants  fight,  tJiat  I  should  not  be 
delivered  to  the  Jews."  John  xviii.  35,  SG.  Can  any  thing  be 
plainer  tlian  that  our  Savior  did  not,  in  this  whole  transaction, 
countenance  any  use  of  the  sword  ? 

'  But  war  is  occasionally  expedient,  even  indispensable  to  our 
liberties,  and  our  very  existence  as  a  nation.' — These  points  we 
are  not  now  arguing.     We  simply  inquire  whetlier  tlie  gospel 


263 


WAR    UNCHRISTIAN. 


sanctions  war ;  and  the  moment  you  begin  to  plead  its  expediency 
or  necessity,  you  abandon  the  Bible,  and  virtually  concede  that 
you  cannot  justify  the  custom  from  its  pages.  Does  the  gospel 
any  where  permit  us  to  wage  war  when  we  deem  it  expedient  or 
even  necessary'^  If  so,  we  may;  but,  if  not,  tlien  no  degree  of 
expediency  or  necessity  can  prove  it  consistent  with  the  gospel. 

'  The  Bible,  however,  allows  to  government  what  it  forbids  to  in- 
dividuals.^— True,  in  som£  cases  it  does  ;  but  in  such  cases  there  is 
a  clear  exception  in  favor  of  government.  Government,  as  the 
representative  of  associated  individuals,  is  regarded  by  all  writers 
on  international  law,  and  by  the  common  sense  of  the  world,  as  a 
moral  person,  subject  to  the  same  obligations  with  individuals  in 
all  cases  not  excepted  by  God  himself;  and,  unless  he  has  expressly 
exempted  government,  the  general  principles  of  the  gospel  are 
just  as  binding  upon  rulers  as  upon  subjects.  Every  precept  of 
his  word,  unless  an  exception  is  made  in  their  favor  expressly,  or 
from  the  nature  of  the  case^  is  as  applicable  to  nations  as  to  indi- 
viduals, and  bind  the  former  as  truly  as  they  do  the  latter.  God 
has  no  where  prescribed  one  set  of  moral  principles  for  individuals, 
and  another  for  nations  or  governments ;  and,  unless  the  general 
principles  of  his  word  are  obligatory  alike  on  them  both,  the  latter 
have  no  obligations  to  bind  them,  and  no  rules  to  guide  them. 

The  apologists  for  war  are  very  fond  of  representing  it  as  '  a 
judicial  trial,  a  process  of  justice,  a  mode  of  condign  punish- 
ment.'— This  plea  is  quite  plausible  ;  but  will  facts  justify  it  ?  In 
every  judicial  trial,  we  see  first  a  law  common  to  the  parties ;  next 
a  judge  and  jury  as  umpires  between  them;  then  the  accuser  in 
presence  of  the  culprit,  stating  his  charges,  and  bringing  wit- 
nesses to  prove  them ;  and  finally,  the  sentence  delivered  and 
executed  according  to  law.  Is  war  like  this  ?  Where  is  the  law 
common  to  both  parties  ?  Where  the  umpires  to  whose  decision 
they  refer  the  points  in  dispute  ?  Where  the  process  of  proving 
the  charges  by  fair  testimony  ?  Where  the  verdict  of  the  jury,  or 
the  sentence  of  the  judge?  Where  the  penalty  inflicted  on  the 
guilty  alone  after  legal  conviction  ?  There  is  not  in  war  even  the 
shadow  of  any  thing  like  this;  the  plea  is  as  sheer  a  fiction 
as  was  ever  conceived  ;  and  we  might  as  well  speak  of  a  duel,  a 
street  brawl,  or  a  fight  between  two  madmen  or  a  dozen  tigers,  as 
a  process  of  justice. 

But  we  are  confidently  referred  to  the  passage  which  speaks  of 
civil  government  as  ordained  of  God,  and  of  the  magistrate  as  a 
minister  of  God,  armed  with  the  sword  to  execute  wrath  upon  evil- 
doers, Rom.  xiii.  1 — 7. — Now,  the  whole  aim  of  this  passage  is  to 
enforce  the  duty  of  implicit  submission  to  government,  though  it 
be  as  bad  as  that  of  Nero  himself  then  on  the  throne  ; — a  princi- 
ple which  cuts  up  by  the  roots  the  assumed  right  of  armed  resis- 
tance and  revolution,  which  all  advocates  of  defensive  war  take 
for  granted.  The  Apostle  is  prescribing  the  duty,  not  of  rulers, 
but  of  subjects  alone,  and  authorizes  only  by  implication,  if  at  all, 
merely  the  sword  of  the  magistrate,  not  the  sword  of  the  warrior ; 
the  sword  being  used  here,  not  as  an  instrument  of  death,  but  only 


8  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  264 

as  an  emblem  of  authority.  He  is  looking,  not  at  tlie  intercourse 
of  one  nation  with  anotlier,  but  solely  at  tlie  relation  and  duties 
of  subjects  to  their  own  governments.  Not  a  word  does  he  say 
about  international  wars  ;  nor  does  the  passage  express  or  involve 
a  solitary  principle  that  would,  in  our  opinion,  justify  any  species 
of  war.  The  most  it  can  possibly  mean,  is  that  government  may 
enforce  its  laws  upon  its  own  s^ubjeds^  and  punish  them  at  discretion 
for  disobedience. 

Yet  it  may  be  said,  for  it  has  been,  that  this  right  of  government 
to  punish  or  restrain  its  own  subjects  by  force,  involves  the  right  of 
war.  Here  is  the  pivot  of  the  whole  controversy ;  and  on  this 
point  we  join  issue,  and  contend,  that  the  right,  if  admitted,  to  in- 
flict capital  punishment,  and  to  use  the  sword  in  suppressing  mobs 
and  insurrections,  does  not  include  in  itself  the  right  of  one  na- 
tion to  wage  war  with  another  nation  under  any  circumstances 
whatever.  If  individuals  come  from  a  foreign  country,  and  com- 
mit robbery,  murder,  or  any  other  crimes,  they  become  of  course 
amenable  to  our  laws  as  transient  citizens,  and  the  govenmient 
clearly  has  a  right  to  punish  them  in  the  same  way  it  would  of- 
fenders from  its  own  subjects.  But  war  is  not  an  affair  between 
individtwls  and  governments;  it  is  a  conflict  between  govern- 
ments THEMSELVES  ;  and  the  agents  employed  in  carrying  it  on, 
are  treated,  not  as  individuals,  but  as  representatives  of  their  re- 
spective governments.  What  then  is  the  sole  point  of  inquiry  7 
Not  how  government  may  treat  its  own  suhjeds,  but  hoio  one  na- 
tion may  treat  another  nation.  The  former  is  the  government 
question,  the  latter  the  peace  question;  points  entirely  distinct,  and 
ought  never  to  be  confounded. 

Take  an  illustration.  As  the  head  of  a  family,  I  will  suppose  I 
have  a  right  from  God  to  punish  my  children  ;  but  this  right  does  , 
not  authorize  me  to  punish  my  neighbor's  children,  much  less  will 
it  justify  bloody  contention  between  the  two  families.  My  au- 
thority is  restricted  to  my  own  household  ;  and  from  what  I  may 
lawfully  do  there,  you  cannot  argue  to  what  I  may  do  to  any  other 
family.  They  are  distinct,  independent  domestic  communities 
under  the  protection  of  a  government  common  to  them  both ;  if  one 
injures  the  other,  redress  must  be  sought  in  the  way  which  that 
government  prescribes  ;  and  their  duties  and  rights  in  respect  to 
one  another  must  be  determined,  not  by  what  the  father  of  each 
family  may  do  in  his  own  sphere,  but  by  the  laws  under  which  they 
live.  If  these  laws  permit  families  to  fight  each  otlier,  then  have 
they  such  a  right,  so  far  as  the  government  over  them  can  give  it ; 
and  on  the  same  principle,  if  the  government  of  God,  the  only  one 
over  nations,  allows  them  to  war  against  each  other,  then,  and  only 
then,  have  they  a  right  from  God  to  do  so. 

Such  is  the  application  of  our  argument  From  what  a  govern- 
ment may  properly  do  to  its  owji  subjects^  we  cannot  infer  what  it 
may  rightly  do  to  another  govemimnt.  Like  families  under  a  civil 
government,  they  are  placed  under  the  common  jiu-isdiction  of  Je- 
hovah, and  must  consult  his  will  to  learn  by  what  means  tliey  may 
lawfully  protect  their  rights,  and  redress  Uieir  wrongs  ;  and  thus 


i.-fiSS  .WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  1 9 

we  come  back  once  more  to  the  question,  still  unsettled,  whether 
the  gospel  authorizes  nations  to  wage  war  in  any  case. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  New  Testament,  let  us  make  some 
preliminary  statements  which  few,  if  any  will  gainsay : 

1.  The  deeds  of  war,  in  themselves  considered,  are  confessedly 
forbidden  in  the  Bible,  and  can  be  justified  only  on  the  ground, 
that  government  has  a  right  in  war  to  reverse  or  suspend  the  en- 
actments of  Heaven.     The  New  Testament  gives  no  such  right 

2.  The  spirit  of  war  is  acknowledged  by  all  to  be  contrary  to 
that  of  the  gospel.  But  can  we  have  war  without  its  spirit  ?  What 
is  the  spirit  of  any  custom  or  act  but  the  moral  character  of  that 
custom  or  act  ?  Blasphemy  without  the  spirit  of  blasphemy !  In- 
temperance and  adultery,  injustice  and  oppression,  fraud  and  thetl, 
robbery  and  piracy,  all  without  the  spirit  of  such  practices,  all 
from  motives  directly  opposed  to  their  very  nature  ! !  The  suppo- 
sition is  an  insult  to  common  sense ;  and  we  wonder  how  any  sane 
man  should  dream  of  perpetrating  the  deeds  of  war  without  the 
spirit  of  war,  and  imagine  he  can  destroy  property,  life  and  happi- 
ness by  wholesale  from  motives  of  pure  benevolence  !  Kill  men 
just  for  their  own  benefit !  Send  them  to  perdition  for  their  good ! ! 
Tremendous  logic ;  yet  the  only  sort  of  logic  that  ever  attempts  to 
reconcile  war  with  the  gospel ;  a  logic  that  would  fain  make  the 
veriest  hell  upon  earth  a  nursery  of  pure,  benevolent  affections,  and 
require  us  to  suppose,  that  thousands  of  cut-throats  by  profession, 
generally  unprincipled  and  reckless,  fierce,  irascible  and  vindic- 
tive, the  tigers  of  society,  will  shoot,  and  stab,  and  trample  one 
another  down  in  the  full  exercise  of  Christian  patience,  forgiveness 
and  love ! ! 

3.  The  qualities  required  of  warriors,  are  the  reverse  of  those 
which  characterize  the  Christian.  Even  Paley,  the  ablest  cham- 
pion of  war,  avers  that  "no  two  things  can  be  more  different  than 
the  Heroic  and  the  Christian  characters  ;"  and  then  proceeds  to 
exhibit  the  two  in  striking  contrast  as  utterly  irreconcilable.  Must 
not  war  itself  be  equally  incompatible  with  Christianity  ? 

4.  Wars  of  aggression  all  now  condemn ;  but  the  New  Testa- 
ment makes  no  distinction  between  offensive  and  defensive  wars. 

5.  The  gospel  enjoins  no  virtue  which  the  soldier  may  not  dis- 
card without  losing  his  military  rank  or  reputation ;  nor  does  it 
forbid  a  solitary  vice  which  he  may  not  practise  witliout  violating 
the  principles  of  war. 

6.  While  the  gospel  prescribes  rules  for  every  lawful  relation 
and  employment  in  life,, it  lays  down  not  a  single  principle  appli- 
cable to  the  soldier's  peculiar  business,  and  evidently  designed  for 
his  use.  If  war  is  right,  why  this  studious  avoidance,  this  utter 
neglect  of  its  agents  ? 

7.  The  Old  Testament  predicts  that  the  gospel  will  one  day 
banish  war  from  the  earth  forever.  But,  if  consistent  with  Chris- 
tianity, how  will  the  gospel  ever  abolish  it  ?  The  gospel  destroy 
what  it  sanctions  and  supports ! 

8.  The  first  Fathers  of  the  church  held  war  to  be  unlawful  for 
[Christians ;  and  neither  Christ,  nor  his  Apostles,  nor  any  of  hia 


10  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  266 

early  disciples  before  the  church  became  degenerate,  ever  engaged 
in  war,  or  any  thing  like  it,  but  the  very  reverse. 

9.  Christians,  in  the  warmest  glow  of  their  love  to  God  and 
man,  shrink  with  instinctive  horror  from  the  deeds  of  cruelty  and 
blood  essential  to  war ;  nor  can  they,  in  such  a  state  of  mind, 
perj>etrate  them  without  doing  violence  to  their  best  feelings. 

10.  Converts  from  paganism,  in  the  simplicity  of  their  first  faith, 
have,  not  only  without  the  guidance,  but  even  in  opposition  to  the 
previous  views  of  the  missionaries,  understood  the  gospel  as  for- 
bidding all  war.  Such  was  remarkably  the  case  in  the  South  Sea 
Islands ;  and  the  fact  goes  far  to  prove,  that  no  mind,  not  under 
the  hereditary  delusions  of  war,  would  ever  find  in  the  gospel  any 
license  for  its  manifold  abominations. 

But  let  the'  New  Testament  speak  for  itself.  It  may  forbid  war 
either  by  a  direct  condemnation  of  it,  or  by  the  prohibition  of  its 
moral  dements,  the  things  which  go  to  constitute  war ;  and  we 
contend  that  the  gospel  does  forbid  it  in  both  these  ways. 

I.  Note  first  its  express  condemnation  of  war.  "From  whence 
come  wars  and  fightings  among  you  ?  Come  they  not  hence  even 
of  your  lusts  ?"  James  iv.  1.  We  cannot  well  conceive  a  denun- 
ciation more  direct  or  more  decisive.  Our  Savior  before  Pilate 
declared,  "  if  my  kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  w^ould  my  ser- 
vants fight;  but  now  is  my  kingdom  not  from  hence."  John  xviii. 
3(3.  A  most  unequivocal  condemnation  of  war  as  inconsistent  with 
Christianity.  "  Follow  peace  with  all  men."  Heb.  xii.  14.  Or,  as 
it  is  in  the  original,  seek  earnestly,  with  all  your  might,  after  peace 
not  only  with  your  own  countrymen,  but  with  foreigners ;  not  with 
your  friends  alone,  but  with  your  enemies,  with  the  whole  human 
race.  What  language  could,  if  these  passages  do  not,  condemn 
all  war  as  unchristian  ? 

11.  But  look  at  the  still  more  decisive  mode  of  forbidding  war 
by  the  condemnation  of  its  vnoral  eleTnents.  The  gospel  puts  them 
all  under  ban.  Every  species  of  war  contravenes  the  fundamental 
minciple  of  Christianity.  This  principle  is,  enmity  subdued  bv 
jove,  evil  evercome  with  good,  injury  requited  by  kindness,  ft 
pervades  the  whole  New  Testament;  it  is  the  soul  of  the  Christian 
system.  It  was  on  this  principle  alone  our  Savior  came  from 
heaven  to  the  cross,  and  his  Apostles  went  from  continent  to  con- 
tinent, through  fire  and  blood,  for  the  salvation  of  a  lost  race.  The 
peculiar  precepts  of  the  gospel  all  rest  on  this  principle ;  nor  can 
we  take  it  away  without  subverting  the  entire  fabric  of  Christian- 
ity. But  this  principle  is  incompatible  with  war  in  any  form,  be- 
cause war  always  aims  to  overcome  evil  icith  evil,  to  return  injury ^/br 
injury,  to  subdue  our  enemies  by  making  them  wretched,  to  inflict 
on  our  assailants  the  very  evils  they  meditate  against  us,  t(5"save 
our  own  life,  prooerty  and  happiness  by  sacrificing  theirs.  Such 
is  war  in  its  best  form ;  but,  if  this  be  not  a  contradiction  of  the 
gospel,  we  know  not  what  is,  and  challenge  you  to  conceive  a 
principle  more  directly  opposed  to  that  which  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  Christianity. 

But  the  gospel  condemns  it?  detail  the  moral  elements  of  war. 


267  WAR    UNCHRISTIAN.  11 

"Lay  aside  all  malice ;  and  let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger 
be  put  away. — Avenge  not  yourselves.  Recompense  to  no  man 
evil  for  evil.  See  that  none  render  evil  for  evil  unto  any  man. — 
Whereas  there  is  among  you  envying,  and  strife,  and  division, 
are  ye  not  carnal  ? — Now,  the  works  of  the  flesh  are  these :  hatred, 
variance,  emulation,  wrath,  strife,  sedition,  envyings,  murders, 
revellings,  and  such  like."  Need  any  one  be  told,  that  the  tilings 
here  denounced,  are  inseparable  from  war,  and  constitute  its  very 
essence  ?  What!  war  without  malice  or  hatred,  without  bitterness, 
wrath  or  anger,  without  division  or  strife,  without  variance,  emu- 
lation or  murder !  Nations  go  to  war  without  avenging  themselves, 
and  rendering  evil  for  evil ! 

The  gospel,  however,  still  more  fully  condemns  war  by  enjoin- 
ing ivhat  is  inconsistent  loith  it.  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself;"  and  the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  makes  every  hu- 
man being  our  neighbor.  ""Love  worketh  no  ill  to  his  neighbor ; 
therefore  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  Charity  (love)  suifereth 
long,  and  is  kind ;  seeketh  not  her  own ;  is  not  easily  provoked ; 
thinketh  no  evil ;  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth 
all  things,  endureth  all  things. — Do  good  unto  all  men.  Whatso- 
ever ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them. — By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye 
have  love  one  to  another.  Have  peace  one  with  another.  The 
fruit  of  the  spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness, 
goodness,  meekness.  Put  on  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  peace- 
ableness  of  mind,  meekness,  long-suffering,  forbearing  one  an- 
other, forgiving  one  another,  even  as  Christ  forgave  you.  The 
wisdom  which  is  from  above,  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle, 
and  easy  to  be  entreated. — Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit — the 
meek — the  merciful — the  peace-makers. — Resist  not  evil  ;  but 
whosoever  shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the 
other  also.  Overcome  evil  with  good.  Love  your  enemies,  bless 
them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you." 

Now,  do  not  such  passages  convey  a  most  unequivocal  condem- 
nation of  war  in  all  its  forms  ?  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself— by 
shooting  and  stabbing  him !  Love  worketh  no  ill  to  his  neighbor. 
The  soldiers  only  business  in  any  war  is  to  do  his  neighbor  all  the 
ill  he  can.  Do  unto  others  as  ye  would  that  they  should  do  unto 
you.  Would  you  like  to  have  them  burn  your  dwelling  over  your 
head,  butcher  your  whole  family,  and  then  send  a  bullet  or  a  bay- 
onet through  your  own  heart  ?  Love  your  enemies,  and  do  them 
good.  War  teaches  us  to  hate  them,  and  do  them  all  the  evil  in 
our  power.  Forgive  as  Christ  forgives.  Do  soldiers  forgive  in  this 
way  ?  Avenge  not  yourselves.  War  is  a  system  of  avowed  and 
studied  vengeance.  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him;  if  he  thirst, 
give  him- drink.  Is  war  ever  waged  on  this  principle  ?  Can  it  be 
without  ceasing  to  be  war  ? 

We  know  well  the  plea,  that  these  precepts  are  addressed  to 
individuals,  not  to  governments ;  but  we  challenge  the  slightest 
proof  from  the  New  Testament,  that  one  government,  in  its  inter- 
course with  another,  is  exempt  from  these  obligations,  or  author- 


12=  WAR    UNCnRISTIAN.  266 

ized  to  exempt  its  subjects  from  them. — We  are  also  told,  that 
many  of  these  passages  are  obviously  figurative.  True  ;  but  they 
mean  something.  What  then  do  they  mean  ?  Resist  not  evil,—^ 
turn  the  other  cheek  to  the  sviiter, — overcome  evil  with  good.  Do 
such  passages  mean  to  allow  bombardment,  pillage,  devastation, 
slaughter  ?  If  not,  they  do  not  allow  war.  Love  your  enemies,  and 
do  thzm  good.  Does  this  mean,  ruin  their  commerce^  sink  their  JleetSy 
bum  their  vilj/bges,  plunder  their  cities,  blow  out  their  brains  i  So 
of  all  the  precepts  we  have  quoted ;  no  possible  construction  can 
make  them  allow  any  form  of  war. 

War  is  confessedly  a  bad  business  ;  and,  if  we  must  have  it, 
and  still  wish  its  Avork  of  blood  and  vengeance  performed  accord- 
ing to  the  gospel,  its  deeds  of  hell  executed  in  the  spirit  of  heaveri, 
then  must  we  change  its  agents,  and,  instead  of  such  villains  and 
desperadoes  as  Napoleon  wanted  for  warriors,  instead  of  releas- 
ing felons,  as  England  has  been  wont,  from  the  prison  and  the 
gallows,  on  condition  of  their  becoming  soldiers,  we  must  select 
from  the  church  her  best  members, — her  deacons  and  elders,  her 
pastors,  rectors  and  bishops, — as  the  only  men  that  can,  if  any 
body  can,  rob,  and  burn,  and  ravage,  and  murder  by  wholesale,  all 
MJtliout  malice,  from  motives  of  pure  benevolence,  in  a  Christian 
way !  as  Paul,  or  Gabriel,  or  Christ  Himself  would  have  done  it ! ! 
If  unfit  for  such  hands,  then  is  the  whole  business  of  war  un- 
christian. So  the  warrior  himself  confesses ;  for  Napoleon's 
maxim  was,  '  the  worse  the  man,  the  better  the  soldier,'  and  Wel- 
lington expressly  says,  '  a  man  of  nice  scruples  about  religion,  has 
no  business  to  be  a  soldier.' 

Here  is  a  fair  test  If  war  is  right  for  us,  it  must  have  been 
equally  so  for  our  Savior ;  but  can  you  conceive  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  or  one  of  his  Apostles,  leading  forth  an  army  to  their  work 
of  plunder,  blood  and  devastation  ?  Can  you  point  to  a  modern 
field  of  battle  on  which  Christ  or  Paul  would  have  been  in  his 
element  amidst  fire,  and  blood,  and  groans,  and  dying  curses  ? 
Can  you  show  us  a  war  begun  from  Christian  motives,  conducted 
on  Christian  principles,  pervaded  throughout  with  a  Christian 
spirit  ?  Is  there  a  Christian  way  of  burning  villages,  and  plunder- 
ing cities,  of  perpetrating  the  Mholesale  butcheries  of  the  battle- 
field, and  hurling  thousands  after  thousands  of  guilty  souls  into 
the  eternal  world  ?  Does  the  gospel  tell  us  hoii^to  do  such  things 
aright — how  Apostles,  how  Christ  himself  would  have  done  them  ? 
If  not,  then  is  war  utterly  incompatible  with  tliat  gospel  which 
proclaims  peace  on  earth  as  one  of  its  first  and  most  glorious  pe- 
culiarities; whose  Founder  was  the  Prince  of  Peace;  whose 
promised  reign  on  earth  is  to  be  a  reign  of  universal  peace ; 
whose  followers  are  all  required  to  overcome  evil  m  ith  good,  to 
love  even  their  enemies,  and  imitate  the  blessed  example  of  Him 
who  reviled  not  his  revilers,  returned  no  curse  for  the  many  curses 
heaped  upon  him  by  his  crucifiers,  but  prayed  on  his  cross, 
"  Father,  forgive  them  ;  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXXIII. 

INSENSIBILITY  TO  THE  EVILS  OF  WAR.* 

BY    WM.    E.    CHANNING,    D.  D. 


I  NOW  proceed  to  point  out  some  causes  of  that  insensibility  to 
the  evils  of  war,  so  common  in  the  world,  and  so  common  even 
among  those  from  whom  better  things  might  be  hoped  ;  and  this 
I  do,  not  to  gratify  a  love  of  speculation,  but  in  the  belief,  that 
this  insensibility  will  be  resisted  and  overcome,  in  proportion  as 
its  sources  shall  be  explained. 

I.  Among  its  chief  causes,  one  undoubtedly  is  the  commonness 
of  war.  This  hardens  us  to  its  evils.  Its  horrors  are  too  familiar 
to  move  us,  unless  they  start  up  at  our  own  door.  How  much 
more  would  they  appal  us,  were  they  rare  ?  If  the  history  of  the 
race  were,  with  one  solitary  exception,  a  history  of  peace,  con- 
cord, brotherly  love ;  if  but  one  battle  had  been  fought  in  the  long 
succession  of  ages ;  if  from  the  bosom  of  profound  tranquillity, 
two  armies,  on  one  fatal  day,  had  sprung  forth  and  rushed  to- 
gether for  mutual  destruction  ;  if  but  one  spot  on  earth  had  been 
drenched  with  human  blood  shed  by  human  hands — how  different 
would  be  our  apprehensions  of  war!  What  a  fearful  interest 
would  gather  round  that  spot !  How  would  it  remain  deserted, 
dreaded,  abhorred !  With  what  terrible  distinctness  would  the 
leaders  of  those  armies  stand  out  as  monsters,  not  men !  How 
should  we  confound  them  Avith  Moloch,  and  the  fiercest  fallen 
spirits!  Should  we  not  feel,  as  if,  on  that  mysterious  day,  the 
blessed  influences  of  Heaven  h'd  been  intercepted,  and  a  de- 
moniacal frenzy  had  been  let  loose  on  the  race  ? 

And  has  war,  in  becoming  common,  lost  its  horrors  ?  Is  it  less 
terrible  because  its  Molochs  crowd  every  page  of  history,  and  its 
woes  and  crimes  darken  all  nations  and  all  times?  Do  base  or 
ferocious  passions  less  degrade  and  destroy,  because  their  victims 
are  unnumbered  ?  If  indeed,  the  evils  of  war  were  only  physical, 
and  were  inevitable,  we  should  do  well  to  resign  ourselves  to  that 
kindly  power  of  habit  which  takes  the  edge  from  oft-repeated 
pains.  But  moral  evils,  evils  which  may  be,  and  ought  to  be 
shunned,  which  have  their  spring  in  human  will,  which  our  higher 
powers  are  given  us  to  overcome^  these  it  is  a  crime  unresistingly 
to  endure.  The  frequency  and  strength  of  these  are  more  urgent 
reasons  for  abhorring  and  witlistanding  them.  Reflection  should 
be  summoned  to  resist  the  paralyzing  power  of  habit.  From 
principle,  we  should  cherish  a  deeper  horror  of  war,  because  its 
"  sword  devours  forever." 

*  This  tract,  so  full  of  noble  sentiments,  tourhes  some  points  on  which  there 
IS  diversity  of  opinion  among-  the  friends  of  peace ;  but  it  will  be  borne  in 
mind,  that  the  Peace  Society  lends  no  countcnEuice  to  war  in  any  case  — Ed. 
P.  T.       NO.    XXXIII  "  • 


^ 


INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OP    WAR.  270 

A  second  cause  of  insensibility  to  the  evils  of  war,  and 
one  of  immense  power,  is  the  common  and  almost  universal  be- 
lief, that  the  right  of  war  belongs  to  civil  government  Let  ua 
be  just  to  human  nature.  The  idea  of  Right  has  always  mixed 
itself  with  war ;  and  tliis  has  kept  out  of  view  the  real  character 
of  most  of  tlie  conflicts  of  nations.  The  sovereign,  regarding 
the  right  of  war  as  an  essential  attribute  of  sovereignty,  has  on 
this  ground  ascribed  a  legitimacy  to  all  national  hostilities,  and 
has  never  dreamed  that  in  most  of  his  wars  he  was  a  murderer. 
So  the  subject  has  thought  himself  bound  to  obey  his  sovereign, 
and,  on  this  ground,  has  acquitted  himself  of  crime,  has  perhaps 
imputed  to  himself  merit,  in  fighting  and  slaughtering  for  the  de- 
fence of  the  most  iniquitous  claims.  Here  lies  the  delusion  which 
we  should  be  the  most  anxious  to  remove.  It  is  the  legality, 
ascribed  to  war  on  account  of  its  being  waged  by  government, 
which  produces  insensibility  to  its  horrors  and  crimes.  When  a 
notorious  robber,  seized  by  Alexander,  asked  the  conqueror  of  the 
world,  whether  he  was  not  a  greater  robber  than  himself,  the 
spirit  of  the  hero  repelled  the  title  with  indignation.  And  why 
so  ?  Had  he  not,  witliout  provocation  or  cause,  spoiled  cities 
and  realms,  whilst  the  robber  had  only  plundered  individuals  and 
single  dwellings  ?  Had  he  not  slaughtered  ten  thousand  innocent 
fellow-creatures  for  one  victim  who  had  fallen  under  the  robber's 
knife  ?  And  why  then  did  the  arch-robber  disclaim  the  name, 
and  seriously  believe,  that  he  could  not  justly  be  confounded  Avith 
ruffians  ?  Because  he  was  a  King,  the  head  of  a  state,  and,  as 
such,  authorized  to  make  war.  Here  was  the  shelter  for  his  con- 
science and  his  fame.  Had  the  robber,  after  addressing  his  ques- 
tion to  Alexander,  turned  to  the  Macedonian  soldier,  and  said  to 
him,  "  Are  you  not  too,  a  greater  robber  than  I  ?  Have  not  your 
hands  been  busier  in  pillage?  Are  tlicy  not  dyed  more  deeply  in 
innocent  blood?"  The  unconscious  soldier,  like  his  master, 
would  have  repelled  the  title ;  and  why  ?  "  I  am  a  subject,"  he 
would  have  replied,  "  and  bound  to  obey  my  sovereign ;  and,  in 
fulfilling  a  duty,  I  cannot  be  sunk  to  the  level  of  the  most  hated 
criminal."  Thus  king  and  subject  take  refuge  in  the  right  of  war 
which  is  supposed  to  inhere  in  sovereignty,  and  thus  the  most  ter- 
rible crimes  are  perpetrated  with  little  reproach. 

I  need  not  tell  you,  that  there  are  Christians  who,  to  strip  war 
of  this  pretext  or  extenuation,  deny  that  this  right  exists ;  who 
teach,  tliat  Jesus  Christ  has  wrested  the  sivord  from  the  magis- 
trate as  truly  as  from  the  private  man.  On  this  point  I  shall  not 
now  enter.  I  believe,  that  more  good  may  be  done,  in  the  present 
instance,  by  allowing  to  government  the  right  of  war.  I  still 
maintain,  that  most  wars  bring  the  guilt  of  murder  on  the  govern- 
ment by  whom  they  are  declared,  and  on  the  soldier  by  whom 
they  are  carried  on,  so  that  our  sensibility  ought  in  no  degree 
to  be  impaired  by  the  supposed  legitimacy  of  national  hostilities. 

I  will  allow,  tiiat  government  has  tlie  right  of  war.  But  a  right 
has  bounds ;  and  when  these  are  transgressed  by  us,  it  ceases  to 


271  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OF    WAR.  ^ 

exist;  and  we  are  as  culpable,  as  if  it  had  never  existed.  A 
higher  authority  than  man's,  defines  this  terrible  prerogative.  Wo ! 
wo  to  him,  who  impatiently,  selfishly,  spurns  the  restraints  of  God, 
and  winks  out  of  sight  the  crime  of  sending  fbrth  the  sword  to 
destroy,  because,  as  a  sovereign,  he  has  the  right  of  war. 

From  its  very  nature,  this  right  should  be  exercised  above  all 
others  anxiously,  deliberately,  fearfully.  It  is  the  right  of  passing 
sentence  of  death  on  thousands  of  our  fellow-creatures.  If  any 
action  on  earth  ought  to  be  performed  with  trembling,  with  deep 
prostration  before  God,  with  the  most  solemn  inquisition  into  mo- 
tives, with  the  most  reverent  consultation  of  conscience,  it  is  a 
declaration  of  war.  This  stands  alone  among  acts  of  legis- 
lation. It  has  no  parallel.  These  few  words, "  Let  war  be,"  have 
the  power  of  desolation  which  belongs  to  earthquakes  and  light- 
nings ;  they  may  stain  the  remotest  seas  with  blood ;  may  wake 
the  echoes  of  another  hemisphere  Avith  the  thunders  of  artillery  ; 
may  carry  anguish  into  a  thousand  human  abodes.  Terrible  is 
the  responsibility,  beyond  that  of  all  others,  which  falls  on  him 
who  involves  nations  in  war.  He  has  no  excuse  for  rashness, 
passion,  or  private  ends.  He  ought  at  such  a  moment  to  forget, 
to  annihilate  himself.  The  spirit  of  God  and  justice  should  alone 
speak  and  act  through  him.  To  commit  this  act  rashly,  passion- 
ately, selfishly,  is  to  bring  on  himself  the  damnation  of  a  thousand 
murders.  An  act  of  legislation,  commanding  fifly  thousand  men 
to  be  assembled  on  yonder  common,  there  to  be  shot,  stabbed, 
trampled  under  horses'  feet,  until  their  shrieks  and  agonies  should 
end  in  death,  would  thrill  us  with  horror.  Yet  such  an  act  is  a 
declaration  of  war ;  and  a  government  which  can  perform  it,  with- 
out the  most  solemn  sense  of  responsibility,  and  the  clearest  ad- 
monitions of  duty,  deserves  to  endure  the  whole  amount  of  torture 
which  it  has  inflicted  on  its  fellow-creatures. 

I  have  said,  a  declaration  of  war  stands  alone.  There  is  one 
act  which  approaches  it,  and  which  indeed  is  the  very  precedent 
on  which  it  is  founded.  I  refer  to  the  signing  of  a  death-warrant 
by  a  chief  magistrate.  In  this  case,  how  anxious  is  society  that 
the  guilty  only  should  suffer !  The  offender  is  first  tried  by  his 
peers,  and  allowed  the  benefit  of  skilful  counsel.  The  laws  are 
expounded,  and  the  evidence  weighed,  by  learned  aud  upright 
judges ;  and  when,  after  these  protections  of  innocence,  the  un- 
happy man  is  convicted,  he  is  allowed  to  appeal  for  mercy  to  the 
highest  authority  of  the  State,  and  to  enforce  his  own  cry  by  solici- 
tations of  friends  and  the  people ;  and  when  all  means  of  averting 
his  doom  fail,  religion,  through  her  ministers,  enters  his  cell,  to  do 
what  yet  can  be  done  for  human  nature  i,n  its  most  fallen,  mis- 
erable state.  Society  does  not  cast  from  its  bosom  its  most  un- 
worthy member,  without  reluctance,  without  grief,  without  fear  of 
doing  wrong,  without  care  for  his  liappiness.  But  wars,  by  which 
thousands  of  the  unoffending  and  worthiest  perish,  are  continually 
proclaimed  by  rulers  in  madness,  through  ambition,  through  infer- 
nal policy,  from  motives  which  should  rank  them  with  tlie  captains 
of  pirate-ships,  or  leaders  of  banditti. 


4  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OF    WAR.  272 

It  is  time  that  the  right  of  war  should  not  shield  governments 
from  the  infamy  due  to  hostilities  to  which  selfish,  wicked  passions 
give  birth.  Let  rulers  learn,  that  for  this  right,  tliey  are  held  to 
a  fearful  responsibility.  Let  a  war,  not  founded  in  plain  justice 
and  necessity,  never  be  named  but  as  Murder.  Let  tJie  Christian 
give  articulate  voice  to  the  blood  tliat  cries  from  the  earth  against 
rulers  by  whom  it  has  been  cruninally  shed.  Let  no  soft  terms 
be  used.  On  this  subject,  a  new  moral  sense,  and  a  new  language, 
are  needed  throughout  the  civilized  and  Christian  world ;  and  just, 
in  proportion  as  the  truth  shall  find  a  tone,  war  will  cease. 

But  the  right  of  war,  which  is  said  to  belong  to  sovereignty, 
not  only  keeps  out  of  sight  the  enormous  guilt  of  rulers  in  almost 
all  national  conflicts  ;  it  also  hides  or  extenuates  the  frequent 
guilt  of  subjects  in  taking  part  in  tlie  hostilities  which  their  rulers 
declare.  In  this  way,  much  of  the  prevalent  insensibility  to  the 
evils  of  war  is  induced,  and  perhaps  on  no  point  is  light  more 
needed^  The  ferocity  and  cruelty  of  armies  impress  us  little,  be- 
cause we  look  on  them  as  doing  a  work  of  duty.  The  subject  or 
citizen,  as  we  tliink,  is  bound  to  obey  his  rulers.  In  his  worst 
deeds  as  a  soldier,  he  is  discharging  his  obligations  to  the  State  ; 
and  thus  murder  and  pillage,  covered  with  a  cloak  of  duty,  excite 
no  deep,  unaffected  reprobation  and  horror. 

I  know  it  will  be  asked,  "  Is  not  the  citizen  bound  to  fight  at 
the  call  of  his  government  ?  Does  not  his  comniission  absolve 
him  from  the  charge  of  murder,  or  enonnous  crime  ?  Is  not 
obedience  to  the  sovereign  power  the  very  foundation  on  Avhich 
society  rests  ? "  I  answer,  has  the  duty  of  obeying  government 
no  bounds  ?  Is  the  human  sovereign  a  God  ?  Is  his  sovereignty 
absolute  ?  If  he  command  you  to  slay  a  parent,  must  you  obey  ? 
If  he  forbid  you  to  worship  God,  must  you  obey  ?  Have  you  no 
right  to  judge  his  acts  ?  Have  you  no  self-direction  ?  Is  there 
no  unchangeable  right  which  tlie  ruler  <cannot  touch  ?  Is  there 
no  higher  standard  than  human  law  ?  These  questions  answer 
tliemselves.  A  declaration  of  war  cannot  sanction  wrong,  or 
turn  murder  into  a  virtuous  deed.  Undoubtedly,  as  a  general 
rule,  the  citizen  is  bound  to  obey  the  authorities  under  which  he 
lives  No  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  mere  expediency  of 
measures,  will  warrant  opposition.  Even  in  cases  of  doubtful 
right,  he  ma^  submit  his  judgment  to  the  law.  But  when  called 
to  do  what  his  conscience  clearly  pronounces  wrong,  he  must  not 
waver.  No  outward  law  is  so  sacred  as  the  voice  of  God  in  his 
own  breast  He  cannot  devolve  on  rulers  an  act  so  solemn, 
as  the  destruction  of  fellow-beings  convicted  of  no  oflTence.  For 
no  act  will  more  solemn  inquisition  be  made  at  the  bar  of  God. 

I  maintain,  that  the  citizen,  before  fighting,  is  bound  to  inquire 
into  the  justice  of  the  pause  which  he  is  called  to  maintain  witli 
blood,  and  bound  to  withhold  his  hnnd,  if  iiis  conscience  conden;n 
the  cause.  On  tliis  point  he  is  able  to  judge.  No  political  ques- 
tion, indeed,  can  be  detenp.ined  so  easily  as  this  of  war.  War 
can  be  justified  only  by  plain,  palpible  necessity;  by  unquestion- 
able wrongs  which,  as  patient  trial  has  proved,  can  in  no  otlier 


273  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OF    WAR.  5*^ 

way  be  redressed ;  by  the  obstinate,  persevering  invasion  of  sol- 
emn and  unquestionable  rights.     The  justice  of  war  is  not  a  mys- 
tery for  cabinets  to  solve.     It  is  not  a  state-secret  which  we  must  ' 
take  on  trust.     It  lies  within  our  reach.      We  are  bound  to  ex- 
amine it. 

The  presumption  is  always  against  the  justice  and  necessity  of 
war.  This  we  learn  from  the  spirit  of  all  rulers  and  nations 
towards  foreign  states.  It  is  partial,  unjust.  Individuals  may  be 
disinterested ;  but  nations  have  no  feeling  of  the  tie  of  brotherhood 
to  their  race.  A  base  selfishness  is  the  principle  on  which  the 
affairs  of  nations  are  commonly  conducted.  A  statesman  is  ex- 
pected to  take  advantage  of  the  weaknesses  and  wants  of  other 
countries.  How  loose  a  morality  governs  the  intercourse  of  states ! , 
What  falsehoods  and  intrigues  are  licensed  by  diplomacy !  What 
nation  regards  another  with  true  friendship  ?  What  nation  makes 
sacrifices  to  another's  good  ?  What  nation  is  as  anxious  to  per- 
form its  duties,  as  to  assert  its  rights  ?  What  nation  chooses  to 
suffer  wrong,  rather  than  to  inflict  it  ?  What  nation  lays  down 
the  everlasting  law  of  right,  casts  itself  fearlessly  on  its  principles, 
and  chooses  to  be  poor,  or  to  perish  rather  than  to  do  Avrong  ?  Can 
communities  so  selfish,  so  unfriendly,  so  unprincipled,  so  unjust, 
be  expected  to  wage  righteous  wars  ?  Especially  if  with  this  sel- 
fishness are  joined  national  prejudices,  antipathies,  and  exaspe- 
rated passions,  what  else  can  be  expected  in  the  public  policy  but 
inhumanity  and  crime  ?  An  individual,  we  know,  cannot  be  trusted 
in  his  own  cause,  to  measure  his  oAvn  claims,  to  avenge  his  own 
wrongs  ;  and  the  civil  magistrate,  an  impartial  umpire,  has  been 
substituted  as  the  only  means  of  justice.  But  nations  are  even 
more  unfit  than  individuals  to  judge  in  their  own  calise;  more 
prone  to  push  their  rights  to  excess,  and  to  trample  on  the  rights 
of  others";  because  nations  are  crowds,  and  crowds  are  unawed 
by  opinion,  and  more  easily  inflamed  by  sympathy  into  madness. 
Is  there  not  then  always  a  presumption  against  the  justice  of  war  ? 

This  presumption  is  increased,  when  Ave  consider  the  false  no- 
tions of  patriotism  and  honor  which  prevail  in  nations.  Men  think 
it  a  virtuous  patriotism  to  throw  a  mantle,  as  they  call  it,  over 
their  country's  infirmities,  to  wink  at  her  errors,  to  assert  her  most 
doubtful  rights,  to  look  jealously  and  angrily  on  the  prosj)erity  of 
rival  states ;  and  they  place  her  honor  not  in  unfaltering  adherence 
to  the  right,  but  in  a  fiery  spirit,  in  quick  resentment,  in  martial 
courage,  and  especially  in  victory.  Can  a  good  man  hold  himself 
bound  to  engage  in  war  at  the  dictate  of  such  a  state  ? 

The  citizen  or  subject,  you  say,  may  innocently  fight  at  the 
call  of  his  rulers ;  and  I  ask,  Avho  are  his  rulers  ?  Perhaps  an  ab-' 
solute  sovereign,  looking  down  on  his  people  as  another  race,  as 
created  to  toil  for  his  pleasure,  t6  fight  for  noAV  provinces,  to  bleed 
for  his  renoAvn.  There  are  indeed  republican  governments.  But 
were  not  the  republics  of  antiquity  as  greedy  of  conquest,  as 
prodigal  of  human  life,  as  steeled  against  the  cries  of  humanity, 
as  any  despots  Avho  ever  lived  ?  And  if  Ave  come  doAvn  to  modern 
republics,  are  tliey  to  be  trusted  with  our  consciences  ?     What 


6  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OF    WAR.  274 

does  the  Congtess  of  these  United  Sfcitea  represent?  Not  so 
much  the  virtue  of  the  country,  as  a  vicious  principle,  die  spirit  of 
party.  It  acts  not  so  inuch  for  the  people  as  for  parties ;  and  are 
parties  upright?  Are  parties  merciful  ?  Are  the  wars  to  which 
party  commits  a  country,  generally  just? 

Unhappily,  public  men,  under  all  governments,  are,  of  all  moral 
guides,  the  most  unsafe,  the  last  for  a  Christian  to  follow.  Public 
life  is  thought  to  absolve  men  from  the  strict  obligations  of  truth 
and  justice.  To  wrong  an  adverse  party,  or  anoUier  country,  is 
not  reprobated,  as  are  wrongs  in  private  life.  Thus  duty  is  de- 
throned ;  tlms  the  majesty  of  virtue  is  insulted  in  the  administra- 
tion of  nations.  Public  men  are  expected  to  tliink  more  of  their 
own  elevation  than  of  tlieir  country.  Is  the  city  of  Washington 
the  most  virtuous  spot  in  this  republic  ?  Is  it  the  school  of  incor- 
ruptible men  ?  Public  bodies  want  conscience.  Men  acting  in 
masses,  shift  off  responsibility  on  one  another.  Multitudes  never 
blush.  If  these  things  be  true,  then  I  maintain,  that  the  Christian 
has  not  a  right  to  take  part  in  war  blindly,  confidingly,  at  the  call 
of  his  rulers.  To  shed  the  blood  of  fellow-creatures,  is  too  solemn 
a  work  to  be  engaged  in  lightly.  Let  him  not  put  himself,  a  tool, 
into  wicked  hands.  Let  him  not  meet  on  the  field  his  brother 
man,  his  brother  Christian,  in  a  cause  on  which  Heaven  frowns. 
Let  him  bear  witness  against  unholy  wars,  as  his  country's  great- 
est crimes.  If  called  to  take  part  in  them,  let  him  deliberately  re- 
fuse. If  martial  law  seize  on  him,  let  him  submit.  If  hurried  to 
prison,  let  him  submit  If  brought  thence  to  be  shot,  let  him  sub- 
mit There  must  be  martyrs  to  peace  as  truly  as  to  other  prin- 
ciples of  our  religion.  The  first  Christians  chose  to  die,  rather 
than  obey  the  laws  of  the  state  which  commanded  them  to  re- 
nounce their  Lord.  "Death  rather  than  crime!" — such  is  the 
good  man's  watch-word ;  such  the  Christian's  vow.  Let  him  be 
faitliful  unto  death. 

Undoubtedly  it  will  be  objected,  that  if  one  law  of  the  state 
may  in  any  way  be  resisted,  then  all  may  be,  and  so  government 
must  fall.  This  is  precisely  the  argument  on  which  the  doctrine 
of  passive  obedience  to  the  worst  tyrannies  rests.  The  absolutist 
says,  "if  one  government  may  be  overturned,  none  can  stand. 
Your  right  of  revolution  is  nothing  but  the  right  of  anarchy,  of 
universal  misrule."  The  reply  is  in  both  instances  the  same. 
Extreme  cases  speak  for  themselves.  We  must  put  confidence  in 
the  common  sense  of  men,  and  suppose  them  capable  of  distin- 
guishing between  reasonable  laws,  and  those  which  require  them 
to  commit  manifest  crimes.  The  objection  which  we  are  consid- 
ering, rests  on  the  supposition,  that  a  declaration  of  war  is  a  com- 
mon act  of  legislation,  bearing  no  strong  marks  of  distinction 
from  other  laws,  and  consequently  to  be  obeyed  as  implicitly. 
But  it  is  broadly  distinguished.  A  declaration  of  war  sends  us 
forth  <to  destroy  our  fellow-creatures,  to  carry  fire,  sword,  famine, 
bereavement  want  and  wo  into  the  fields  and  habitations  of  our 
brethren;  whilst  Christianity,  conscience,  and  all  tlie  pure  affec 
lions  of  our  nature,  call  us  to  love  our  brethren,  and  to  die,  if  need 


275  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE    EVILS    OF    WAR.  7 

be,  for  their  good.  And  from  whence  comes  this  declaration  of 
war  ?  From  men  who  would  rather  die  than  engage  in  unjust  or 
unnecessary  conflict?  Too  probably,  from  men  to  whom  Chris- 
tianity is  a  name,  whose  highest  law  is  honor,  who  are  used  to 
avenge  their  private  wrongs,  and  defend  their  reputations  by  shed- 
ding blood,  and  who,  in  public  as  in  private  life,  defy  the  laws  of 
God.  Whoever,  at  such  men's  dictation,  engages  in  war,  without 
solemnly  consulting  conscience,  and  inquiring  into  the  justice  of 
the  cause,  contracts  great  guilt ;  nor  can  the  "  right  of  war"  which 
such  men  claim  as  rulers,  absolve  him  from  the  crimes  ,and  woes 
of  the  conflict  in  which  he  shares. 

III.  I  observe,  thirdly,  that  men's  sensibility  to  the  evil  of  war 
has  been  very  much  blunted  by  the  deceptive  show,  the  costume, 
the  splendor  in  which  war  is  arrayed.  Its  horrors  are  hidden  un- 
der its  dazzling  dress.  To  the  multitude,  the  senses  are  more 
convincing  reasoners  than  the  conscience.  In  youth,  the  period 
which  so  often  receives  impressions  for  life,  we  cannot  detect,  in 
the  heart-stirring  fife  and  drum,  the  true  music  of  war,  the  shriek 
of  the  newly  wounded,  or  the  faint  moan  of  the  dying.  Arms  glit-v 
tering  in  the  sunbeam,  do  not  remind  us  of  bayonets  dripping  with 
blood.  To  one,  who  reflects,  there  is  something  very  shocking  in 
these  decorations  of  war.  If  men  must  fight,  let  them  wear  the 
badges  which  become  their  craft.  It  would  shock  us  to  see  a 
hangman  dressed  out  in  scarf  and  epaulette,  and  marching  with 
merry  music  to  the  place  of  punishment.  The  soldier  has  a  sad- 
der, work  than  the  hangman.  His  office  is  not  to  despatch  oc- 
casionally a  single  criminal ;  he  goes  to  the  slaughter  of  thou- 
sands as  free  from  crime  as  himself.  The  sword  is  worn  as  an 
ornament ;  and  yet  its  use  is  to  pierce  the  heart  of  a  fellow-crea- 
ture. As  well  might  the  butcher  parade  before  us  his  knife,  or 
the  executioner  his  axe  or  halter.  Allow  war  to  be  necessary, 
still  it  is  a  horrible  necessity,  a  work  to  fill  a  good  man  with  an- 
guish of  spirit.  Shall  it  be  turned  into  an  occasion  of  pomp  and 
merriment  r  To  dash  out  men's  brains,  to  stab  them  to  the  heart, 
to  cover  the  body  with  gashes,  to  lop  off"  the  limbs,  to  crush  men 
under  the  hoof  of  the  war-horse,  to  destroy  husbands  and  fathers, 
to  make  widows  and  orphans,  all  this  may  be  necessary ;  but  to 
attire  men  for  this  work  with  fantastic  trappings,  to  surround  this 
fearful  occupation  with  all  the  circumstances  of  gaiety  and  pomp, 
seems  as  barbarous,  as  it  would  be  to  deck  a  gallows,  or  to  majce 
a  stage  for  dancing  beneath  the  scaffold.  ^ 

I  conceive  that  the  military  dress  was  not  open  to  as  much  re- 
proach in  former  times  as  now.  It  was  then  less  dazzling,  and 
acted  less  on  the  imagination,  because  it  formed  less  an  exception 
■to  the  habits  of  the  times.  The  dress  of  Europe  not  many  cen- 
turies ago,  was  fashioned  very  much  after  what  may  be  called  the 
harlequin  style ;  that  is,  it  affected  strong  colors  and  strong 
contrasts.  This  taste  has  passed  away  very  much  with  the 
progress  of  civilization.  The  military  dress  alone  has  escaped 
tlie  reform.     The  military  man  is  the  only  harlequin  left  us  from 


8  INSENSIBILITY    TO    THE -EVILS    OP    WAR.  276 

ancient  times.  It  is  time  that  his  dazzling  finery  were  gone,  that 
it  no  longer  corrupted  tlie  young,  no  longer  threw  a  pernicious 
glare  over  his  terrible  vocation. 

IV.  I  close  with  assigning  what  appears  to  me  to  be  the  most 
powerful  cause  of  the  prevalent  insensibility  to  war.  It  is  our 
blindness  to  the  dignity  and  claims  of  human  nature.  We  know 
not  the  worth  of  a  man.  We  know  not  who  the  victims  are,  on 
whom  war  plants  its  foot,  whom  the  conqueror  leaves  to  the  vulture 
on  tiie  field  of  battle,  or  carries  captive  to  grace  his  triumph.  Oh ! 
did  we  know  what  men  are,  did  we  see  in  them  the  spiritual  im- 
mortal children  of  God,  what  a  voice  should  we  lift  against  war ! 
How  indignantly,  how  sorrowfully  should  we  invoke  Heaven  and 
earth  to  right  our  insulted,  injured  brethren ! 

But  "  must  the  sword  devour  forever  ?  "  Must  force,  fear,  pain 
always  rule  the  world  ?  Is  the  kingdom  of  God,  tlie  reign  of  truth, 
duty  and  love,  never  to  prevail  ?  Must  the  sacred  name  of  brethren 
be  only  a  name  among  men  ?  Is  the  eartli  always  to  steam  with 
human  blood  shed  by  man's  hands,  and  to  echo  with  groans  wrung 
from  hearts  which  violence  has  pierced  ?  Can  you  and  I,  my 
friends,  do  nothing  to  impress  a  different  character  on  the  future 
history  of  our  race  ?  You  say  we  are  weak ;  and  why  weak  ? 
It  is  from  inward  defect,  not  from  outward  necessity.  We  are 
inefficient  abroad,  because  faint  within,  faint  in  love,  and  trust, 
and  holy  resolution.  Inward  power  always  conies  forth,  and  works 
without  Noah  Worcester,  enfeebled  in  body,  was  not  weak. 
George  Fox,  poor  and  uneducated,  Avas  not  weak.  They  had  light 
and  life  within,  and  therefore  were  strong  abroad.  Their  spirits 
were  stirred  by  Christ's  truth  and  spirit ;  and  so  moved,  they  spoke 
and  were  heard.  We  are  dead,  and  therefore  cannot  act  Per- 
haps we  speak  against  war ;  but  if  we  speak  from  tradition,  if  we 
echo  what  we  hear,  if  peace  be  a  cant  on  our  lips,  our  words  are 
unmeaning  air.  Our  own  souls  nnust  bleed  when  our  brethren  are 
slaughtered.  We  must  feel  tlie  infinite  wrong  done  to  man  by  the 
brute  force  which  treads  him  in  the  dust  We  must  see  in  the 
authors  of  war,  monsters  in  human  form,  incarnations  of  the  dread 
enemy  of  the  human  race.  Under  the  inspiration  of  such  feelings, 
we  shall  speak,  even  the  humblest  of  us,  with  something  of  pro- 
phetic force.  This  is  the  power  which  is  to  strike  awe  into  the 
counsellors  and  perpetrators  of  now  licensed  murder ;  which  is  to 
wither  the  laurelled  brow  of  now  worshipped  heroes.  Deep  moral 
convictions,  unfeigned  reverence  and  fervent  love  for  man,  and 
living  faith  in  Christ,  are  mightier  than  armies ;  mighty  through 
God  to  the  pulling  down  of  the  strong  holds  of  oppression  and 
war.  Go  forth,  then,  friends  of  mankind,  peaceful  soldiers  of 
Christ !  and  in  your  various  relations,  at  home  and  abroad,  in 
private  life,  and,  if  it  may  be,  in  more  public  spheres,  give  faithful 
utterance  to  the  principles  of  universal  justice  and  love,  give  utter- 
ance to  your  deep,  solemn,  irreconcilable  hatred  of  the  spirit  of  war. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXXIV 


CLAIMS  OF  PEACE  ON  CHRISTIANS. 


The  cause  of  peace  seeks,  as  its  only  object,  the  entire  aboli- 
tion of  war.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  capital  punishment,  with 
the  strict  inviolability  of  human  life,  or  with  the  question  whether 
the  gospel  allows  physical  force  in  the  government  of  states, 
schools  and  families.  On  such  subjects  we  leave  men  to  think 
as  they  please,  and  ask  them  merely  to  aid  us  in  putting  an  end 
to  that  custom  which  lexicographers  define  to  be  "  a  contest  by 
force  between  nations.'''*  It  is  not  only  a  conflict  unto  death, 
but  a  conflict  between  governments  ;  and  neither  a  teacher  pun- 
ishing his  pupil,  nor  a  parent  chastising  his  child,  nor  a  father 
defending  his  family  against  a  midnight  assassin,  nor  a  magistrate 
inflicting  the  penalties  of  law  upon  a  criminal,  can  properly  be 
termed  war,  because  the  parties  are  not  nations  or  governments 
alone,  but  either  individuals,  or  individuals  and  governments. 
Such  questions  may  be  important ;  but,  associated  solely  for  the 
abolition  of  war,  we  restrict  ourselves  to  this  single  object. 

But  how  is  this  object  to  be  gained  ]  Only  by  God's  promised 
blessing  on  a  right  application  of  his  own  gospel  to  the  case. 
Here  we  find  his  sovereign  remedy  for  all  the  moral  maladies  of  our 
race ;  and  all  we  seek,  or  need,  or  can  do,  is  such  an  application 
of  its  pacific  principles  as  shall  put  war  forever  under  the  ban  of 
every  Cliristian  community.  If  rightly  applied  from  the  first, 
the  gospel  would  have  caused  wars  to  cease  from  every  land  blest 
with  its  heavenly  light ;  and  hence  we  urge  upon  all  Christians 
the  obligation  of  making  such  an  application  of  its  principles  as 
shall  insure  the  prevalence  of  peace  co-extensive  with  Christian- 
ity itself  We  ask  the  co-operation  of  all  good  men,  and  insist 
on  the  duty  of  specific^  associated  efforts  for  the  pacification  of 
our  world  just  as  fast  as  it  shall  be  converted  to  God. 

1.  This  duty  is  implied,  first,  in  God's  promise  of  universal 
peace.  He  assures  us  in  his  word  of  an  era  when  men  '  shall 
beat  their  swords  into  plough-shares,  their  spears  into  pruning- 
hooks,  and  cease  from  learning  war  any  more.'  Here  is  a  pro- 
mise quite  as  explicit  as  any  concerning  the  restoration  of  the 
Jews,  or  the  conversion  of  the  heathen  ;  and  if  bound  to  unite,  as 
Christians  do,  in  specific  efforts  for  the  fulfilment  of  these  pro- 
phecies, why  should  we  not  do  the  same  in  reference  to  the  pro- 
phecy of  universal  and  permanent  peace  ?  The  latter,  equally 
with  the  former,  is  a  part  of  God's  word,  and  the  same  means  are 
just  as  indispensable  in  one  case  as  the  other ;  nor  do  we  see 
why,  if  specific,  associated  efforts  ought  to  be  made  for  the  con- 
version of  the  Jews,  or  the  spread  of  the  gospel  among  the  hea- 
then, similar  efforts  should  no^  be  put  forth  to  make  them  cease 
Vrom  war.     The  bare  existence  of  such  a  prophecy  imposes  on 


?i  CLAIMS    OF   PEACE  278 

Christians  the  obligation  of  using  the  means  necessary  for  its 
fuJCJment. 

2.  This  duty  results,  also,  from  the  very  genius  of  (Jhrisnan- 
ity.  It  is  emphatically  a  religion  of  peace.  Peace  is  its  motto, 
one  of  its  grandest  objects,  a  point  to  which  its  precepts,  provi- 
sions and  influences,  all  confessedly  tend  as  their  final  result 
Peace  marks  its  entire  history  and  character.  The  birth-song 
of  its  Founder  was  peace ;  all  his  instructions  breathed  peace  , 
his  whole  life  was  peace ;  and,  while  pouring  out  his  blood  on 
the  cross,  he  prayed  for  his  murderers.  The  Bible  is  a  great 
statute-book  of  peace  ;  our  Father  in  Heaven  is  the  God  of  Peace ; 
our  Redeemer  there  is  the  Prince  of  Peace ;  the  Spirit  he  pro- 
mised is  a  Spirit  of  Peace;  his  followers  are  all  denominated  the 
children  of  peace,  and  bound  by  the  very  terms  of  their  profession, 
to  become  zealous  co-workers  with  God  in  the  cause  of  universal 
peace. 

3.  The  same  obligation  is  implied,  next,  in  the  duty  of  person- 
al peace.  So  frequently  is  this  duty  enjoined  throughout  the 
Bible,  that  the  Christian  must  feel  himself  especially  required  to 
promote  peace  amongst  individuals,  in  families,  in  neighbor- 
hoods, in  Churches,  in  communities,  wherever  he  comes  in  con- 
tact with  mankind.  But  does  not  this  involve  the  duty  of  seeking 
the  peace  of  the  whole  world  ]  Surely  the  principle  does  apply, 
with  a  force  vastly  augmented,  to  the  great  brotherhood  of  na- 
tions ;  for,  if  peace  is  so  incumbent  upon  individuals,  or  so  desir- 
able for  their  happiness,  is  it  not  far  more  so  for  a  kingdom,  for  a 
world  ]  If  important  for  one  man,  is  it  not  for  a  million,  for  a 
thousand  millions  I  If  individuals  ought  to  "  seek  peace,  and 
ensue  it,"  are  not  nations,  embodying  millions,  under  far  greater 
obligations  to  do  so  ]  If  required  ourselves  to  "  live  peaceably 
with  all  men,  and  follow  after  the  things  which  make  for  peace," 
are  we  not  bound  by  considerations  still  more  imperative,  to  use 
every  means  in  our  power  for  diffusing  the  virtues  and  blessings 
of  peace  over  the  whole  earth  1 

4.  The  same  obligation  we  might  infer,  also,  from  almost 
every  duly  enjoined  in  the  gospel.  Take,  as  a  specimen, 
the  duty  of  evangelizing  the  world.  The  substance  of  all  the 
precepts  on  this  point,  is  forcibly  condensed  into  our  Saviour's 
last  command,  bidding  us  preach  his  gospel,  his  whole  gospsl,  to 
every  creature.  And  what  is  that  gospel  ?  A  patron,  an  ally, 
an  instigator  of  war ! — war  burning  with  malice  and  revenge, 
reeking  with  pollution,  and  steeped  in  blood  and  tears !  'j'ho 
bare  supposition  outrages  common  sense ;  for  the  gospel  is  di- 
rectly, most  glaringly  repugnant  to  every  shred  of  a  custom  so 
foul  and  vindictive. 

We  are  not  now  discussing  a  disputed  point.  We  do  not  here 
allude  to  the  vexed  question,  whether  a  war  strictly  defensive,  is 
ever  justifiable  on  ChriMian  prin^^iples ;  a  point  about  which 
there  is  diversity  of  opinion  among  good  men,  among  the  sincere 
friends  of  peace,  and  we  leave  them  to  settle  it  each  one  for  b)ir. 


I 


279  ON   CHRISTIANS.  3 

self  in  the  light  of  the  Bible.  We  are  assailing  the  custom  it- 
self; and,  whatever  we  may  think  about  wars  strictly  defensive, 
no  man  in  his  senses  can  fail  to  see  tiie  absolute  inconsistency  of 
such  a  practice  with  a  religion  of  universal  peace  and  good-will. 
Look  at  its  details,  and  tell  us,  what  part  of  this  foul  and  horrid 
custom  does  the  gospel  sanction  1  Ascertain  its  objects,  and  an- 
alyze its  motives ;  mark  the  spirit  it  cherishes,  and  the  passions 
it  kindles  into  a  blaze ;  trace  its  progress  in  guilt,  and  its  results 
in  mischief  and  woe ;  go  to  its  fleets  and  camps  reeking  with 
pollution,  to  its  battle-fields  raging  with  hellish  malice  and  wrath, 
to  its  hospitals  resounding  with  groans,  and  curses,  and  blasphe- 
mies; and  in  all  these,  which  alone  constitute  war,  what  can 
you  find  compatible  with  a  religion  of  peace,  purity  and  love  1 

There  is  no  view  you  can  take  of  such  a  custom,  that  will  not 
prove  its  direct  contrariety  both  to  the  New  Testament  and  the 
Old.  We  do  not  shrink  from  an  appeal  eveti  to  the  Old  Testa- 
ment ;  for,  if  you  separate  its  precepts  from  its  somewhat  myste- 
rious history,  you  will  find  the  former  almost  as  much  opposed 
as  the  gospel  itself,  to  the  practice  of  war.  It  enjoins  piety,  and 
love,  and  truth,  and  meekness,  and  a  variety  of  other  duties  and 
graces  utterly  inconsistent  with  this  trade  of  blood.  But  glance 
at  the  great  moral  code  of  Sinai.  Thou  shall  have  no  other 
gods  before  me.  War,  pagan  in  its  origin,  pagan  still  in  its 
spirit,  and  always  requiring  soldiers  to  obey  their  superiors,  right 
or  wrong,  rather  than  God  himself,  does  virtually  dethrone  Jehovah 
from  the  hearts  of  an  army,  and  put  in  his  place  a  general  or  a 
prince,  the  idol  of  patriotism,  or  the  phantom  of  military  glory. 
War  was  the  origin  of  nearly  all  the  demigods  ever  worshipped ; 
most  of  them  were  warriors  deified;  had  Napoleon  lived  two 
thousand  years  earlier,  he  would  have  been  the  very  Mars 
of  the  world ;  and  we  seriously  doubt  whether  the  sticklers  for 
war  pay  half  as  much  respect  to  tlie  Almighty,  as  they  do  to  this 
modern  monster,  this  ravager  of  a  continent,  and  murderer  of 
millions.  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God 
in  vain.  Every  one  knows  war  to  be  a  nursery  of  irreligion,  a 
school  of  profaneness  and  blasphemy.  Thou  shnlt  not  commit 
adultery.  War  is  a  hotbed  of  the  foulest,  most  brutal  licentious- 
ness. Thou  shalt  not  steal.  War  is  a  system  of  legalized  na- 
tional robbery  and  piracy.  Thou  shalt  not  kill.  War  seeks  to 
kill  as  its  grand  aim,  and  is  in  fact  the  most  terrible  engine  ever 
devised  for  the  wholesale  destruction  of  mankind.  Look  through 
the  Decalogue,  through  the  whole  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and  you 
will  find  war  absolutely  compelling  soldiers  to  violate  not  a  few 
of  its  plainest,  most  important  precepts. 

But  the  gospel,  repealing  the  ancient  law  or  license  of 
retaliation,  and  putting  in  its  place  the  principle  of  uni- 
versal good-will,  is  still  more  repugnant,  if  possible,  to  the  custom 
of  war.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  Can  the 
soldier  do  this,  and  still  continue  his  trade  of  human  butchery? 
Love  as  yourself  the  very  man  on  whom  you  are  trying  to  inflict 


4  CLAIMS   OP   PEACE  280 

the  greatest  possible  amount  of  evil  for  two  worlds !  Paul  tells 
us,  tnat  "  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  because  it  worketh  no 
ill  to  his  neiofhbor ;"  but  the  soldier's  whole  business  is  to  do 
hiin  all  the  ill  he  can.  Do  good  unto  all  men.  War  goes 
upon  the  avowed  prmciple  of  doing-  them  eti/,  as  the  only  means 
of  accomplishing-  its  objects.  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them.  The  soldier  do  to 
others  what  he  wishes  done  to  himself!  Would  ynu  like  to  have 
your  dwelling  burnt  over  your  head,  your  family  butchered  be- 
fore your  eyes,  and  your  own  body  blown  or  hewn  to  pieces  ? 
Yet  this  alone  is  war ;  and  to  talk  of  a  war  that  did  not  aim  to 
perpetrate  such  atrocities,  and  inflict  such  miseries  by  whole- 
sale, would  be  as  plain  a  contradiction  in  terms,  as  to  speak  of 
living-  death  !  What !  a  war  that  sought  to  kill  no  one,  to  de- 
stroy no  prop?rty,  to  do  nobody  any  harm !  You  might  as  well 
call  hell  itself  hea.ven  !  Love  your  enemies.  War  would  fain 
have  us  hate  them,  and  never  did,  never  can  exist  without  the' 
deepest,  bitterest  malice.  Seek  peace.  Live  in  peace.  Follow 
peace  with  all  men.  See  that  none  render  evil  for  evil  to  any 
man,  friend  or  foe.  Lay  aside  all  malice,  the  great  fountain 
of  strife  alike  between  individuals  and  nations.  Mortify  your 
members  which  are  upon  the  earth,  all  those  unholy  passions 
from  which  alone,  as  James  assures  us,  war  can  ever  proceed. 
Avenge  not  yourselves;  but,  whoso  smiteth  you  on  one  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  also.  Resist  not  evil ;  but  overcome  evil 
with  good.  We  cannot  stop  to  explain  these  passages;  but 
there  is  no  possible  construction  that  would  not  make  them  con- 
demn  war    as   incompatible  with  Christianity. 

Here,  then,  is  confessedly  the  genuine  spirit,  an  integral  part 
of  tlmt  gospel  which  our  Saviour's  last  command  bids  us  preach 
to  every  creature  ;  and  we  insist  on  its  being  our  duty,  in  con- 
cert with  the  rest  of  his  disciples,  to  teach  the  whole  human 
race  this  part,  as  well  as  every  other  part,  of  our  holy  religion. 
Tliis  part  I  and  are  we  permitted  at  pleasure  to  embrace  or  to 
spread  a  mutilated  gospel — a  gospel  without  peace,  any  more 
than  a  gospel  without  repentance  or  faith  7  Are  we  at  liberty  to 
pluck  out,  or  to  leave  out,  its  principles  of  peace  1  No  more 
than  we  are  repentance  or  faith  ;  for  our  Saviour's  last  command,^ 
and  all  his  previous  instructions,  rivet  upon  us  the  obligation  of 
preaching  peace,  just  like  repentance  or  faith,  as  an  integral  part 
of  the  gospel,  and  thus  rendering  its  pacific  principles,  like  all  its 
other  truths,  eftective  of  their  object  in  the  spread  of  peace  co- 
extensive with  Christianity  itself. 

Here  is  all  we  ask — such  an  application  of  the  gospel  as  shall 
secure  the  actual  abolition  of  war  in  every  Christian  country. 
We  dream  not  of  extending  peace  a  single  span  beyond  the  in- 
fluences of  the  gospel ;  but  we  do  plead  earnestly  forthe  restora- 
tion of  those  principles  which  our  Saviour  himself  taught,  his 
apostles  everywhere  preached,  and  his  disciples,  down  to  l.iti 
war-degeneracy  of  the  Church,  continued  to  exemplity,  like  a**  . 


281  ON   CHRISTIANS.  6 

the  other  Christian  graces,  in  their  lives.  We  ask  on  this  point 
for  the  very  gospel  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  him  who  "  spake  as 
never  man  spake."  Only  let  its  principles  of  peace  once  more 
be  taught  by  every  minister,  and  put  in  practice  by  every  Chris- 
tian, as  they  unquestionably  were  by  all  the  first  teachers  and 
professors  of  Christianity ;  then,  but  never  till  then,  will  peace, 
as  an  element  of  the  gospel  itself,  prevail,  just  like  repentance 
and  faith,  wherever  Christianity  itself  prevails,  and  the  world 
thus  be — what  it  never  yet  has  been  in  the  case  of  a  single  na- 
tion, though  it  ought  to  have  been  in  every  case, — converted  tq 
peace  as  fast  as  it  shall  be  to  God. 

•5.  Such  a  reform  is  needed,  moreover,  to  rescue  Christianity 
itself  from  perversion  and  reproach.  The  war-degeneracy  of 
the  Church,  begun  early  in  the  third  century,  consummated  in  the 
fourth  by  her  union  with  the  state  under  Constantine,  and 
thenceforward  extending  over  the  whole  of  her  subsequsnt  his- 
tory, has  grossly  belied  the  pacific  character  of  our  religion,  and 
shorn  it  of  no  small  part  of  its  primitive  beauty,  loveliness  and 
glory.  When  the  chosen  choir  of  heaven  tihanted  over  the  man- 
ger of  Bethlehem  their  song  of  peace  and  good-will ;  when  our 
Saviour,  not  only  through  life,  but  even  in  death  itself,  taught 
and  exemplified  the  peaceful  principles  of  his  gospel ;  when  his 
Apostles  in  like  manner  carried  the  same  principles  from  city  to 
city,  from  kingdom  to  kingdom ;  when  his  disciples,  witliout  ex- 
ception, followed  his  example  of  never  returning  curse  for  curse, 
blow  for  blow,  but  meekly  bowed  their  heads  to  the  axe  or  the 
gibbet  of  their  persecutors ;  so  long  as  the  whole  Church  thus 
stood  forth  before  the  world  in  the  stainless  panoply  of  peace, 
just  so  long  did  Christianity  commend  itself  to  the  consciences 
of  men,  and  make  rapid  progress  towards  the  spiritual  conquest 
of  the  world.  The  war-degeneracy  of  the  Church  v/as  her  grand 
heresy,  and  did  more  than  anything  else  to  paganize  her  charac- 
ter, and  pave  the  way  for  that  flood  of  evils  which  overspread 
Christendom  during  the  middle  ages.  Never  was  there  a  grosser 
or  more  fatal  perversion  ;  and  ever  since  she  has  for  the  most 
part  belied  the  peaceful  principles  of  her  gospel,  and  provoked 
the  wrath  or  scorn  of  mankind. 

Truth  extorts  this  humiliating  confession.  The  history  of  the 
nominal  Church,  the  only  one  known  at  the  time,  was  written 
for  centuries  in  blood.  How  often  did  the  professed  followers  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace  meet  to  slaughter  one  another !  How  many 
millions  perished  by  their  hands  in  the  Crusades,  in  wars  witli 
the  Mohammedans,  in  the  religions  wars  consequent  on  the  Re- 
formation !  How  often  did  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  Churcli 
lead  forth  armies  to  battle !  How  common,  for  more  tlian  a 
thousand  years,  for  Christians  to  pray  the  God  of  Peace  to  aid 
them  in  butchering  one  another,  and  then  to  return  solemn 
thanks  for  the  slaughter  of  thousands  and  scores  of  thousands  of 
their  own  brethren  !  When  Magdeburg  was  a  smoking  heap 
of  ruins,  and  thirty  thousand  of  her  citizens,  men,  women,  and 
children,  lay  rotting  in  her  streets,  or  roasted  in  the  ashes  of  their 


6  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE  282 

own  dwellings,  the  victorious  general  ordered  a  Te  Deura  to  be 
publicly  chanted  in  gratitude  to  their  common  God  ! !  So  has  it 
been  for  some  fifteen  centuries  ;  nor  can  the  most  nefarious  war 
even  now  be  waged,  but  the  Church,  in  the  Old  World,  if  not  in 
the  New,  must  be  made,  by  her  prayers  and  praises,  a  party  in 
this  work  of  Itell.  The  Archbishop  of  England  still  composes, 
for  use  in  all  her  sanctuaries,  a  solemn  form  of  thanksgiving  to 
God  for  such  savage  butcheries  as  were  perpetrated,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  nineteenth  century,  upon  the  Chinese  and  Afghans ! 

Tell  us  not,  such  cases  are  exceptions  for  which  the  Church 
has  little  or  no  responsibility.  Exceptions  !  peace  is  the  excep- 
tion ;  war,  the  rule.  'J'he  evil,  too,  is  more  or  less  in  her  own 
bosom.  Does  she  not  allow  her  members  to  live  by  tiiis  trade  of 
blood  I  Has  she  for  ages  excluded  the  warrior  from  her  commu- 
nion ]  Has  she  once,  for  the  last  fifteen  hundred  years,  borne  her 
united  testunony  before  the  world  against  this  custom  as  incon- 
sistent with  her  views  of  the  gospel  ]  Nay,  has  she  not  fawned 
on  the  warrior,  and  consecrated  his  banners,  and  followed  him 
with  her  prayers  for  success,  and  crowned  him  on  his  return  with 
laurels  ]  Are  not  her  most  venerable  temples  to  this  day  filled 
with  the  trophies  of  war  ]  Did  not  Col.  Gardiner,  one  of  her 
favorite  sons,  die  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  Doddridge  himself, 
one  of  her  brightest  luminaries,  write  his  eulogy  without  a  singly 
rebuke  upon  his  profession  of  blood  ]  Nor  is  it  many  years  since 
no  man  in  the  British  Empire  could  take  out  a  commission  as  an 
ofScer  in  the  army  or  navy,  for  the  wholesale  butchery  of  his 
fellow-men,  without  a  certificate  of  his  being  a  meTnber  of  the 
Church  of  Christ !  and  not  a  note  of  alarm,  scarce  a  whisper  of 
rebuke  or  displeasure,  was  heard  from  the  presses  or  the  pulpits 
of  Christendom.  Alas !  do  not  Christians,  even  now  join  men 
of  the  world  in  idolizing  the  demi-gods  of  war,  train  some  of  their 
own  children  to  this  work  of  death,  and  teach  the  rest  to  admire 
war  and  the  warrior  1 

No  wonder,  then,  at  the  consequent  reproaches  upon  Christi- 
anity. Mark  the  bitter,  withering  sarcasms  of  infidelity.  "  Ye 
bungling  soul-physicians  !"  exclaims  Voltaire,  "to  bellow  for  an 
hour  or  more  against  a  few  flea-bites,  and  not  say  a  word  about 
that  horrid  distemper  which  tears  us  to  pieces  !  Burn  your 
books,  ye  moralizing  philosophers!  Of  what  avail  is  humanity, 
benevolence,  meekness,  temperance,  piety,  when  half  a  pound  of 
lead  shatters  my  body ;  when  I  expire,  at  the  age  of  twenty, 
under  pains  unspeakable ;  when  my  eyes,  at  their  last  opening, 
see  my  native  town  all  in  a  blaze,  and  the  last  sounds  I  hear  are 
the  shrieks  and  groans  of  women  and  children  expiring  amidst 
the  ruins]" 

Nor  is  Judaism  less  severe  in  her  taunts.  When  a  celebrated 
advocate  of  foreign  missions  was  announced  to  preach  at  P'al- 
mouth,  England,  a  Jew  posted  on  the  door  of  the  Church  this 
notice :  "  Our  Messiah,  when  he  conies,  will  establish  a  system 
of  mercy,  peace  and  kindness  upon  earth;  while  among  you 
Christians,  only  disputes,  animosities  and  cruelties  mark  your 


283  ON  CHRISTIANS.  7 

passage  through  the  world.  Possibly  your  religion  sanctions 
these  things ;  ours  does  not  With  us,  the  goodness  and  be- 
neficence alone  of  the  Mosaic  laws  constitute  their  grand  autho- 
rity, and  proclaim  aloud  their  emanation  from  a  God  of  love. 
We  loant  no  better,  we  expect  no  better,  till  Messiah  shall  indeed 
come.  Then  will  '  every  man  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  fig- 
tree  ;  nation  shall  no  longer  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither 
shall  they  learn  war  any  more ;  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with 
the  kid,  the  wolf  and  the  lamb  shall  feed  together,  and  a  little 
child  shall  lead  them.'  Has  this  golden  era  of  peace  and  love 
ever  yet  been  witnessed  ]  Speak,  Christians,  speak  candidly ; 
has  it  been  once  seen  throagh  the  last  eighteen  hundred  years'?" 

t).  We  can  hardly  glance  at  the  influence  of  peace  on  the 
character  of  the  Church  in  preparing  her  for  the  millenium. 
Such  a  preparation  is  indispensable  ;  it  is  the  great  moral  deside- 
ratum of  the  age  ;  and  never  till  she  recovers  her  primitive  spirit 
of  peace,  will  she  acquire  the  qualities  requisite  for  reclaiming 
the  whole  world  to  her  Saviour. 

7.  But  mark  the  necessity  of  such  a  reform  to  secure  a  suffi' 
dent  blessing  from  heaven  on  the  efforts  noio  in  progress  for 
the  world's  conversion.  This  work,  begun  by  Apostles,  has  at 
length  been  renewed  with  a  good  degree  of  zeal  and  success ; 
but  why  are  a  thousand  modern  missionaries,  with  all  the  re- 
sources of  Christendom,  accomplishing  less  towards  the  world's 
conversion,  than  did  a  dozen  unlettered,  penniless  fishermen  of 
Galilee  ]  We  rejoice  in  the  glorious  i-esults  of  modern  missions ; 
but  how  slight  all  these  results  in  comparison  with  those  vouchsafed 
to  Apostles!  Whence  this  difference?  Surely  the  fault  is 
not  in  our  missionaries,  those  master-spirits  of  the  Church, 
but  in  the  great  body  of  Christians  at  home,  who  have  fallen  in 
this  respect,  if  not  in  many  others,  so  far  below  the  high  standard  of 
primitive  piety,  that  God  cannot  consistently  bestow  on  them 
such  success  as  he  granted  to  Apostles.  For  results  so  glorious, 
there  must  be  a  corresponding  moral  preparation  of  the  Church 
as  a  body ;  but  will  she,  can  she,  make  such  Reparation  so  long  as 
the  war-spirit  gangrenes  her  vitals,  or  the  war-system  of  Chris- 
tendom hangs,  an  incubus  of  guilt  and  blood,  upon  her  bosom  1 

Look  at  the  past.  David,  though  a  man  in  many  respects 
after  God's  own  heart,  was  not  permitted  to  build  a  '  temple  for 
the  Lord,  because  he  had  shed  much  blood.''  And  will  not  this 
principle  apply,  with  still  more  force,  to  Christians  in  their  efforts 
to  spread  a  religion  of  peace  1  The  Great  Head  of  the  Church 
is  himself  the  Prince  of  Peace  ;  he  will  never  convert  the  na- 
tions at  the  sacrifice  of  a  single  principle  of  his  gospel ;  and, 
though  he  may,  doubtless  will,  grant  his  followers  success  enough 
to  encourage  a  tenfold  increase  of  their  zeal,  he  will  not,  in  all 
probability,  give  them  "  the  heathen  for  their  inheritance,  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth  for  their  possession,"  until  they  shall 
cease  from  lending  their  countenance  to  the  war-system,  and  re- 
incorporate in  their  faith  and  character  the  pacific  principles  of 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 


3  CLAIMS    OF   PEACE  284 

8.  Such  a  reform  would  ere  lon^  remove  not  a  few  obstacles 
to  the  spread  of  the  gospel.  A  multitude  of  these  have  been 
scattered,  ag-e  after  age,  over  the  whole  earth  by  the  martial 
character  of  Christendom.  Its  wars,  however  unjust  the  charge, 
are  actually  charged  by  the  heathen  upon  our  religion  as  one  of 
its  supposed  fruits;  and  thus  have  they  reared  all  round  the 
whole  unevangelized  world  a  barrier  of  prejudice  very  like  the 
wall  of  Chinar  Their  ports,  their  ears,  their  hearts  are  closed 
fiist  against  us.  Christians  are  regarded  with  terror  ;  and  Chris- 
tianity Itself,  though  an  angel  of  peace  and  love,  has  thus  be- 
come, all  over  the  earth,  a  hissing  and  a  scorn. 

You  cannot  well  conceive  how  far  the  wars  of  Christendom 
have  set  the  great  mass  of  unevangelized  minds  sternly  against  the 
religion  of  the  cross.  Not  only  does  the  infidel  cast  them  in  our 
teeth,  and  the  Jew  insist  that  the  Messiah,  promised  as  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  cannot  have  come,  since  nations  reputedly 
Christian  have  been  almost  incessantly  engaged  in  war;  but 
even  the  follower  of  the  false  prophet  calls  us  "  Christian  dogs," 
and  taunts  us  for  our  glaring  hypocrisy. 

The  result  is  iitevitable  in  checking  the  spread  of  Christianity. 
How  came  the  gospel  to  meet  in  the  Sandwich  and  South  Sea 
Islands,  a  reception  comparatively  so  cordial,  and  a  degree  of 
success  so  glorious]  Other  causes  conspired;  but  a  principnl 
one  was  found  in  the  fact,  that  the  wars  of  Christendom  were 
little  known  to  the  natives,  and  they  saw  Christianity  exhibited 
before  them  first  in  the  lives  of  its  humble,  peaceful  missionaries. 
On  the  other  hand,  why  were  the  Jesuit  missionaries  so  indig- 
nantly expelled  from  China  1  Whence  such  rancorous  hatred  of 
the  gospel  in  Japan,  that  every  man,  woman  and  child  was  re- 
quired to  go  once  a  year  through  the  ceremony  of  publicly  tramp- 
ling in  scorn  on  the  cross,  and  no  Christian  even  now  can  put 
his  foot  on  the  shores  of  that  island,  without  first  renouncino"  his 
religion?  They  had  heard  of  Christian  nations  crimsonino-  their 
path  by  sea  and  land  with  blood ;  and  they  very  naturally  sus- 
pected those  Jesuits  of  having  come  to  involve  them,  some  how 
or  other,  in  the  same  calamities  that  nominal  Christians  liad  so 
often  inflicted  upon  one  another..  The  countries  all  round  the 
Mediterranean,  traversed  by  x\postles,  and  covered  with  prinytive 
Churches,  have  been  for  ages  filled,  mainly  in  consequence  of 
fierce,  bloody  wars  so  long  waged  between  Mohammedans  and 
reputed  Christians,  with  such  deep  and  bitter  prejudice*  as  cen- 
turies can  hardly  suffice  to  remove.  Such  prejudices  more  or 
less  overspread  the  globe,  and  must  be  removed  before  its  myriads  ■ 
can  be  evangelized. 

9.  But  consider  how  vastly  the  prevalence  of  peace  would  in~ 
crease  the  means,  both  in  men  and  money,  of  converting  the 
world.  It  would  save  enough  for  this  purpose  in  a  single  gene- 
ration ;  for  already  has  the  Church  ^alone  spent  or  lost  in  the 
wars  of  Christendom,  a  hundred  times  as  much  of  treasure  and 
of  blood,  as  would  have  sufficed,  centuries  ago,  to  bring  all  na- 
tions under  the  saving  power  of  the  gospel. 


285  ON  CHRISTIANS.  0 

Just  glance  at  a  few  facts.  Some  three  millions  of  standincf 
warriors  now  in  Christendom ;  300,000  lives  sacrificed  in  (>iif 
own  Revolutionary  War;  more  than  a  million  in  the  wars  of  the 
Spanish  Peninsula  under  Napoleon;  no  less  than  nine  or  ten 
millions  in  the  wars  consequent  on  the  French  Revolution ;  some 
thirty  millions  in  all  the  wars  of  the  Reformation ;  wliile  thirty 
tliousand  missionaries,  it  is  supposed,  would  suffice  under  God  for 
the  world's  immediate  evangelization. 

We  will  not  here  attempt  to  estimate  or  conjecture  the  entire 
loss  of  property  by  war ;  bat  its  direct  expenses,  though  a  mere 
fraction  of  what  it  wastes,  are  enormous  almost  beyond  calcula- 
tion. Our  war  with  a  handful  of  Indians  in  Florida  was  said  to 
cost  us  some  forty  or  fifty  million  dollars ;  our  Revolutionary 
War  cost  England  herself  nearly  seven  hundred  millions ;  her 
wars  with  Napoleon  absorbed  more  than  five  thousand  mil- 
lions ;  England,  during  twenty  years,  spent  for  war-purposes 
alone,  an  average  of  more  than  one  million  every  day  ;  and  the 
wars  of  Christendom,  from  1793  to  1815,  only  twenty-two  years, 
actually  wasted,  barely  for  their  support,  about  fifteen  thousand 
millions  ;  a  sum  so  vast,  that  the  mere  interest,  at  six  per  cent, 
would  be  nine  hundred  millions  a  year ;  enough  to  evangelize 
two  such  worlds  as  ours,  and  furnish  them  with  the  most  ample 
means  of  grace  and  salvation  down  to  the  end  of  time  ! 

10.  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  the  prevalence  of  peace  would  remove 
a  great  variety  of  obstructions  to  the  efficacy  of  the  gospel  at 
home.  It  is  a  pioneer  or  auxiliary  to  all  our  eftbrts  for  the  salva- 
tion of  men  ;  because  no  farther  than  the  spirit  of  peace  prevails, 
can  you  labor  with  success  either  for  the  conversion  of  sinners, 
or  the  sanctification  of  Christians.  Throw  a  fire-brand  of  strife 
into  any  community  ;  and  from  that  moment  must  the  work  of 
salvation  cease,  and  never  begin  again,  until  that  fire-brand  is 
either  removed  or  quenched. 

Surely,  then,  war,  the  great  fire-brand  of  the  world,  must  tend 
in  many  ways  to  prevent  the  full  effects  of  the  gospel.  It  inter- 
poses a  thousand  neutralizing  influences.  It  fosters  ignorance ; 
it  encourages  intemperance ;  it  instigates  to  the  foulest  forms  of 
licentiousness ;  it  multiplies  to  a  fearful  extent  every  species  of 
vice  and  crime.  It  prevents  or  neutralizes  the  best  means  of 
grace.  It  engrosses  the  mind,  and  sears  the  conscience,  and 
steels  the  heart.  It  withholds  the  Bible  itself;  it  shuts  up  the 
Sanctuary ;  it  suspends  the  Sabbath ;  it  suspends,  for  the  time, 
all  laws,  nearly  all  influences,  but  its  own. 

Now,  must  not  such  things  cripple  the  saving  efficacy  of  the 
gospel  f  Take  the  best  revival  of  religion  ;  and  how  long  could 
it  survive  a  battle,  or  live  amid  the  pestilential  moral  exhalations 
steaming  up  from  a  camp  or  a  fleet  ?  Few,  if  any  wars  can  be 
less  exceptionable  than  that  of  our  own  Revolution ;  but  how  de- 
plorable was  its  acknowledged  influence  on  the  piety  of  our  land  1 
And  let  the  war-mania  once  more  pervade  and  madden  our  whole 
nation ;  let  citizens  be  transformed  by  thousands  into  pirates  or 
marauders,  and  soldiers  be  marched  back  and  forth  through  the 


10  CLAIMS    OF   PEACE  2S6 

country,  and  oncamped  in  every  section  to  trample  on  the  Sab- 
bath, and  indulg-e  in  drunkenness,  debauchery,  and  almost  every 
species  of  vice  and  villainy  ;  let  our  hills  and  vallies  resound  with 
the  uproar  of  battle  after  battle,  and  every  press  teem,  every  mail 
be  loaded,  every  hamlet  reached,  day  after  day,  with  the  news  of 
victory  or  def<igit,  to  keep  the  public  mind  stretched  continually 
to  its  utmost  tether  of  anxious,  agonizing  interest  in  the  progress 
of  the  war ;  and  how  long  before  the  death-knell  of  every  revival 
among  us  would  toll  out  its  last  beat,  and  the  Spirit  of  God,  that 
peaceful  dove,  fly  far,  far  from  such  realms  of  noise  and  strife,  to 
return  no  more  for  years  ! 

11.  But  finally,  and  more  than  all,  peace  would  put  a  stop  to 
the  ruin  of  immortal  souls  directly  occasioned  hy  war.  It  is 
high  time  for  the  truth  on  this  pomt,  if  on  no  other,  to  be  rung 
aloud  in  the  ear  of  every  Christian  community.  Too  long  lias 
the  poor  soldier  been  permitted,  partly  through  our  own  conni- 
vance or  neglect,  to  dream  of  wading  through  all  the  atrocities 
and  horrors  of  war  up  to  the  throne  of  an  immaculate,  merciful 
God !  Far  be  it  from  us  to  say,  that  none  have  ever  gone  even  from 
the  field  of  blood  to  the  realms  of  glory  ;  but  if  war  is  so  notorious 
a  hotbed  of  vice  and  irreligion ;  if  it  breathes  a  spirit,  forms  a 
character,  and  absolutely  enjoins  atrocities  so  utterly  inconsistent 
with  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  if  the  field  of  battle  is  such  a  theatre 
for  the  worst  passions  that  ever  rage  in  the  bosom  of  man ;  if 
fleets  and  camps  are,  the  world  over,  such  proverbial  reservoirs 
of  impiety,  pollution,  and  crime ;  I  dare  not  suppose,  that  such 
masses  of  moral  putrefaction  are  borne  up  into  the  immediate 
presence  of  Him  in  whose  sight  the  very  heavens  are  not  clean ! 

What  a  destroyer,  then,  of  immortal  souls  !  Scarce  a  war  that 
does  not  slay  its  thousands,  its  scores  of  thousands ;  and  how 
often  have  there  fallen  upon  a  single  field  of  battle,  ten  thousand ! 
twenty,  thirty,  fifty  thousand  !  a  hundred,  two  hundred,  three 
hundred  thousand ! !  No  uncommon  number  this  in  ancient 
warfare ;  and,  since  the  dawn  of  the  present  century,  there  per- 
ished in  less  than  six  months  of  the  Russian  campaign,  half  a 
million  of  the  French  alone ;  in  the  wars  of  Alexander  and 
Cesar,  some  three  millions  each ;  in  the  wars  of  Napoleon,  six 
millions;  in  the  wars  of  Jenghis-Khan  some  thirty-two  millions; 
in  the  wars  of  the  Turks  and  Saracens,  sixty  millions  each ;  and 
the  lowest  estimate  I  have  ever  seen,  puts  the  sum  total  of  its 
ravages  from  the  first  at  fourteen  thousand  millions,  eighteen 
times  as  many  as  all  the  present  population  of  our  globe  ! 

Will  the  Church  of  Christ,  then,  never  awake  to  a  subject  so 
immensely  important!  Believers  in  the  gospel  of  peace,  follow- 
ers of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  sons  and  daughters  of  the  God  of 
Peace,  can  you  still  fold  your  own  hands  in  apathy  or  despair, 
and  let  such  a  fell  destroyer  of  mankind  for  two  worlds  continue 
his  work  of  death  and  perdition,  unchecked,  unresisted  by  any 
efforts  or  even  (Trayers  from  you  1 

We  know  you  would  not,  could  not,  if  you  only  saw, — ^as  due 
inquiry  and  reflection  would  certainly  show  you, — how  efibrts 


287  •  ON   CHRISTIANS.  li 

made  by  Christians  as  they  should  be,  would  banish  this  terrible 
scourge  ere  long  from  Christendom,  and  eventually  from  the  face 
of  tne  whole  earth.  There  is  no  impossibility  in  the  case.  War 
is  just  as  curable  as  any  other  evil,  and  requires  for  its  extinction 
only  the  means  of  God's  appointment.  I'here  is  no  more  need 
of  this  custom  than  there  is  of  duelling  or  the  Slave-trade.  It  exists 
solely  because  men  in  their  folly  still  choose  it ;  its  continuance 
depends  entirely  on  their  choice ;  and  whenever  you  can  change 
that  choice,  and  make  the  mass  of  mankind  resolve  that  war 
shall  cease,  it  must  of  necessity  come  to  an  end  at  once  and  for- 
ever. Such  a  change  is  clearly  possible ;  already  is  it  rapidly 
taking  place  under  the  influence  of  this  cause ;  and  nations  will 
one  day  find  it  just  as  easy  for  them  to  settle  their  difficulties 
without  war,  as  the  members  of  a  Church  now  do  theirs  without 
duels.  A  variety  of  substitutes  might  be  adopted  far  more  ef- 
fectual than  the  sword  for  all  purposes  of  protection  and  redress. 

But  you  tell  us  perhaps,  '  Make  men  Christians,  and  then  wars 
will  cease.'  What  sort  of  Christians  1  Surely  not  such  as  have 
for  fifteen  centuries  been  butchering  one  another !  Convert  men 
to  the  whole  gospel,  to  its  pacific  as  well  as  its  other  truths,  to  a 
kind  of  Christianity  that  shall  forbid  them  to  fight  in  any  case ; 
then,  and  only  then,  will  the  spread  of  our  religion  insure  the 
abolition  of  this  custom.  Christianity  has  for  ages  been  pretty 
steadily  gaining  ground  in  Christendom;  and  yet  in  the  last 
century  have  her  standing  warriors  increased  not  less  than  six 
hundred  per  cent.,  from  half  a  million  to  more  than  three  millions ! 
Can  such  a  Christianity  put  an  end  to  war  1 

It  is  not  enough,  then,  merely  to  support  and  to  propagate  any 
form  of  Christianity  which  neglects  to  apply  the  only  part  of  the 
gospel  that  can  ever  abolish  this  custom.  For  such  a  result,  we 
rely  of  course  upon  the  gospel,  but  only  on  the  gospel  rightly 
applied.  Such  an  application  is  indispensable.  What  is  the 
gospel  1  Merely  a  collection  tff^rinciples  which  can  produce  no 
result  without  an  application,  any  more  than  medicine  can  cure 
a  sick  man  who  does  not  take  it.  How  does  the  gospel  convert 
the  sinner  ]  Only  by  its  truths  addressed  to  his  soul.  How  will 
it  ever  abolish  paganism  1  Solely  by  being  sent  and  applied  to 
paganism.  How  can  it  reclaim  the  blasphemer  or  the  Sabbath- 
breaker  1  Only  by  a  direct,  specific  application  to  their  sins.  In 
no  other  way  can  it  cure  any  moral  evil ;  and  in  like  manner  must 
we  apply  the  gospel  to  war,  before  the  spread  of  Christianity  will 
insure  a  corresponding  prevalence  of  peace. 

But  are  you  waiting  for  the  millenium  to  come,  and  saying 
that,  when  it  does  come, — never  before, — peace  will  follow  am  a 
rhatter  of  course  1  Very  true ;  and  so  will  repentance  and  faith 
follow  as  a  matter  of  course ;  but  how  are  you  to  reach  the  mil- 
lenium 1  Would  you  first  get  into  the  millenium,  and  then  con- 
vert the  world  1  Is  the  millenium  to  make  men  Christians,  or 
the  making  of  all  men  Christians  to  be  itself  the  millenium  1 
How  would  you  introduce  a  millenium  of  repentance  1  Simply 
by  first  filling  the  world  with  repentance — with  men  penitent  for 


12  CLAIMS    OP  PEACE   ON   CHRIS flANS.     **  288 

their  sins.  How  a  millenium  of  faith  1  Solely  by  filling  the 
world  with  faith — with  believers  in  Jesus.  How  then  a  millenium 
of  ppace  1  In  the  same  way  ;  for  peace,  just  like  repentance  and 
faith,  must  come  before  the  millenium,  as  one  of  its  indispensable 
harbingers,  or  along  with  the  millenium,  as  one  of  its  inseparable 
concomitants ;  for,  unless  men  are  converted  to  peace  as  fast  as 
they  are  to  God,  such  a  conversion  of  the  whole  world  plainly 
could  not  ensure  its  entire,  perpetual  pacification. 

But  come  that  glorious  era  must,  for  God  himself  hath  pro- 
mised it  as  explicitly  as  he  has  the  world's  conversion,  or  the 
salvation  of  any  believer  in  Christ ;  yet  it  never  can  come,  any 
more  than  cither  of  those  results,  without  the  use  of  such  means 
as  he  hath  appointed  for  the  purpose.  These  means  are  all  in- 
cluded in  such  an  application  of  the  gospel  as  shall  everywhere 
Christianize  the  public  mind  on  this  subject.  War  has,  in  every 
age  and  clime,  resulted  from  a  public  opinion  grossly  perverted  ; 
that  opinion  must  be  radically,  universally,  permanently  changed  ; 
and  for  the  production  of  such  a  change,  first  in  Christendom,  and 
finally  through  the  world,  all  the  main-springs  of  influence  upon 
the  popular  mind  must  be  set  and  kept  at  work.  The  pulpit  must 
speak  often  and  aloud ;  the  press,  with  her  thousand  tongues, 
must  speak  in  the  ear  of  all  reading  communities ;  instructors 
in  all  our  seminaries  of  learning  must  speak  to  the  young  minds 
under  their  care;  teachers  in  Sabbath-schools  must  speak  to 
their  pupils ;  every  pious  parent  or  guardian  must  speak  to  the 
group  of  interesting  minds  clustered  Around  his  own  fireside  ; 
every  Church,  every  Christian,  every  friend  of  God  or  man,  high 
and  low,  old  and  young,  male  and  female,  should  zealously  co- 
operate in  using  the  means  which  God  has  appointed  to  usher  in 
that  glorious  era  when  nations  shall  beat  their  swords  into 
plough-shares,  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks,  and  cease  from 
learning  the  art  of  war  any  more. 

Remember,  then,  the  absolute  necessity  of  means,  and  use  all 
in  your  power.  Can  you  write,  or  speak,  or  pray  for  this  cause? 
Then  do  so.  Have  you  influence  1  Then  use  it.  Have  you 
money  ?  Be  sure  to  give  a  portion  of  it ;  nor  forget  for  how 
many  purposes  the  cause  needs  such  aid.  We  must  support 
agencies,  send  forth  lecturers,  and  scatter  periodicals,  tracts  and 
volumes  through  the  land.  Such  operations,  altogether  indis- 
pensable, require  a  large  amount  of  funds  ;  and  Christians  should 
at  length  give  to  this  cause  as  liberally  as  they  do  to  other 
causes  that  aim  in  like  manner  at  the  glory  of  God  in  the  present 
and  immortal  welfare  of  mankind. 


AMEillOAN  PEACE  SOCIETY,   BOSTON,   MASS. 


No.  XXXV. 

THE   ONLY   REMEDY   FOR  WAR. 

BY    W.    E.    CHANNING,    D.  D. 

If  the  most  terrible  view  of  war  be,  that  it  is  the  triumph  and 
jubilee  of  selfish  and  malignant  passions,  then  its  true  cure  is  to  be 
sougkt  in  the  diffusion  of  the  principles  of  Universal  Justice  and 
Love,  in  that  spirit  of  Jesus  Clirist  which  expels  the  demons  of  sel- 
fishness and  malignity  from  the  heart.  Even  supposing  that  war 
could  be  abolished  by  processes  which  leave  tlie  human  character 
unchanged,  that  it  could  be  terminated  by  the  progress  of  a  civili- 
zation which,  whilst  softening  manners,  would  not  diminish  the 
selfishness,  mercenariness,  hard-heartedness,  fraud,  ambition  of 
men,  its  worst  evils  would  still  remain,  and  society  would  reap  in 
some  other  forms  the  fruits  of  its  guilt.  God  has  ordained,  that 
the  wickedness  within  us  shall  always  find  its  expression  and 
punishment  in  outward  evil.  War  is  the  fiend  within  coming  out. 
Human  history  is  nothing  more  than  the  inward  nature  mani- 
feste^d  in  its  native  acts  and  issues.  Let  the  soul  continue  un- 
changed ;  and,  should  war  cease,  the  tnward  plague  would  still 
find  its  way  to  the  surface.  The  infernal  fire  at  the  centre  of  our 
being,  though  it  should  not  break  forth  in  the  wasting  volcano, 
would  not  slumber,  but  by  other  eruptions,  more  insensible,  yet 
not  less  deadly,  would  lay  waste  human  happiness.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  any  remedy  but  the  Christian  spirit  can  avail  against 
war.  The  wild  beast,  that  has  gorged  on  millions  of  victims  in 
every  age,  is  not  to  be  tamed  by  a  polished  or  selfish  civilization. 
Christianity  is  the  only  true  remedy  for  war ;  not  Christianity 
in  name,  not  such  Christianity  as  we  see,  not  such  as  has  grown 
up  under  arbitrary  governments  in  church  and  state,  not  such  as 
characterizes  any  Christian  sect  at  the  present  day ;  but  Chris- 
tianity as  it  lived  in  the  soul,  and  came  forth  in  the  life  of  its 
founder ;  a  religion  that  reveals  man  as  the  object  of  God's  infi- 
nite love,  and  which  commends  him  to  the  unbounded  -love  of  his 
brethren ;  a  religion,  the  essence  of  which  is  self-denial,  self- 
sacrifice,  in  the  cause  of  human  nature ;  a  religion,  which  pro- 
scribes, as  among  the  worst  sins,  the  passion  of  man  for  rule  and 
dominion  over  his  fellow-creatures ;  which  knows  nothing  of  rich 
or  poor,  high  or  low,  bond  or  free,  and  casts  down  all  the  walls  of 
partition  which  sever  men  from  one  another's  sympathy  and  respect. 

Christian  love  alone  can  supplant  war ;  and  this  love  is  not  a 
mere  emotion,  a  tenderness  awakened  by  human  suffering,  but  an 
intelligent,  moral,  spiritual  love,  a  perception  and  deep  feeling  of 
the  sacredness  of  human  nature,  a  recognition  of  the  jnalienable 
rights,  the  solemn  claims  of  every  human  being.  It  protests  fear- 
lessly against  all  wrong,  no  matter  how  obscure  the  victim.  It 
desires  to  lift  up  each  and  all,  no  matter  bow  fallen.  It  is  a  jjBi- 
p.  T.     NO,  3;xxv. 


2  THE    ONLY    REMEDY    FOR    WAR.  290 

pathy  with  the  spiritual  principle  dwelling  under  every  human 
form.  This  is  the  love  which  is  to  conquer  war ;  but,  as  yet,  this 
has  been  little  diffused.  The  love  Avhich  Christ  breathes,  which 
looks  through  man's  body  to  the  immortal  spirit,  which  sees  some- 
thing divine  in  the  rational  and  moral  powers  of  the  lowest  human 
being,  and  which  challenges  for  tlie  lowest,  tlie  sympatliy,  respect, 
and  fostering  aid  of  his  race ;  tliis  has  been  rare,  and  yet  it  is 
only  by  the  gradual  diffusion  of  this,  that  the  plague  of  war  can 
be  stayed.  This  regard  for  humanity,  could  it  even  prevail 
through  a  narrow  sphere,  could  it  bind  together  but  a  smalt  body 
of  men,  would  send  forth  a  testimony  against  war,  which  would 
break  the  slumber  of  the  Christian  world,  and  strike  awe  into  many 
a  contemner  of  his  race. 

I  am  aware,  that  others  are  hoping  for  the  abolition  of  war  by 
other  causes ;  and  other  causes,  I  am  aware,  must  be  brought  into 
action-  I  only  say,  that,  unless  joined  with  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, they  give  no  assurance  of  continued  repose.  This  thought 
I  would  briefly  illustrate.  The  present  unusual  cessation  of  arms  in 
the  Christian  world  (1839)  is  to  some  a  promise  of  a  happier  era  in 
human  affairs.  It  is  indeed  a  cheering  fact,  and  may  well  surprise 
us,  when  we  consider  how  many  causes  of  war  have  been  in  ac- 
tion, how  many  threatening  clouds  have  overcast  the  political  sky, 
during  the  pause  of  war.  But  if  we  examine  the  causes  of  this 
tranquillity,  we  shall  learn  not  to  confide  in  it  too  strongly. 

1.  The  first  cause  was  the  exhaustion  in  which  Europe  was 
left  by  the  bloody  conflicts  of  the  French  Revolution.  The  na- 
tions, worn  out  with  struggles,  wasted  by  successive  invasions, 
and  staggering  under  an  unprecedented  load  of  debt,  yearned  for 
repose.  The  strong  man  had  bled  too  freely  to  light  more.  For 
years  poverty  has  kept  the  peace  in  Europe.  One  of  the  fruits  of 
civilization  is  the  increasing  expensiveness  of  war,  so  that  when 
the  voice  of  humanity  cannot  be  heard,  tlie  hollow  sound  of  an 
empty  treasury  is  a  warning  which  cannot  be  slighted.  This 
cause  of  peace  is  evidently  temporary.  Nations,  resting  from  ex- 
haustion, may  be  expected  to  renew  their  pernicious  activity, 
when  their  strength  is  renewed. 

2.  Another  cause  of  the  continuance  of  peace  is  undoubtedly 
the  extension  of  new  and  profitable  relations  through  the  civilized 
world.  Since  the  pacification  of  Europe,  in  1816,  a  new  impulse 
has  been  given  to  industry.  The  discoveries  of  science  have 
been  applied  with  wonderful  success  to  the  useful  arts.  Nations 
have  begun  in  earnest  to  develope  their  resources.  Labor  is  dis- 
covered to  be  the  grand  conqueror,  enriching  and  building  up  na- 
tions more  surely  than  the  proudest  battles.  As  a  necessary  re- 
sult of  this  new  impulse,  commerce  has  oeen  wonderfully  en- 
larged. Nations  send  the  products  of  their  soil  and  machinery, 
where  once  they  sent  armies ;  and  such  a  web  of  common  inter- 
ests has  been  woven,  that  hostilities  can  spring  up  in  no  corner  of 
the  civilized  world,  without  deranging  in  a  measure  the  order  and 
industry  of  every  other  state. 


291  THE    ONLY    REMEDY    FOR    WAR.  ^' 

Undoubtedly  we  have  here  a  promise  of  peace ;  but  let  us 
not  be  too  sanguine.  We  have  just  begun  this  career,  and  we 
know  not  its  end.  Let  wealth  grow  without  a  corresponding 
growth  of  the  temperate,  just  and  benevolent  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  I  see  few  auguries  but  of  evil.  Wealth  breeds 
power,  and  power  always  tempts  to  wrong.  Communities,  which 
at  once  grow  rich  and  licentious,  breed  desperate  men,  vnprin- 
cipled  adventurers,  restless  spirits,  who  unsettle  social  order  at 
home,  who  make  freedom  a  cloak  and  instrument  of  ambition, 
and  find  an  interest  in  embroiling  their  country  with  foreign 
foes.  Another  consequence  of  growing  prosperity,  is  the  rapid 
growth  of  population ;  and  this,  in  the  absence  of  Christian  re- 
straints and  Christian  principles,  tends  to  pauperism  and  crime, 
tends  to  make  men  cheap,  and  to  destroy  the  sacredness  of  human 
life ;  and  communities  are  tempted  to  throw  off  this  dangerous 
load,  this  excess  of  numbers,  in  foreign  war.  In  truth,  the  vices 
which  fester  in  the  bosom  of  a  prosperous,  licentious,  over-peopled 
state,  are  hardly  less  fearful  than  those  of  war,  and  they  naturally 
seek  and  find  their  punishment  in  this  awful  calamity.  Let  us 
not  speak  of  industry,  commerce  and  wealth,  as  ensuring  peace. 
Is  commerce  never  jealous  and  grasping?  Have  commercial 
states  no  collisions  ?  Have  commercial  rights  never  drawn  the 
sword  in  self-defence  ?  Are  not  such  states  a  tempting  prey  ? 
And  have  they  no  desire  to  prey  on  others  ?  Why  then  expect 
from  trade  alone  peace  among  nations  ?  Nothing,  nothing  can 
bind  nations  together  but  Christian  justice  and  love.  I  insist  on 
this  the  more  earnestly,  because  it  is  the  fashion  now  to  trust  for 
every  good  to  commerce,  industry,  and  the  wonderful  inventions 
which  promise  indefinite  increase  of  wealth.  With  all  our  inge- 
nuity, we  can  frame  no  machinery  for  manufacturing  wisdom,  virtue, 
peace.  Rail-roads  and  steam-boats  cannot  speed  the  soul  to  its 
perfection.  This  must  come,  if  it  come  at  all,  from  each  man's  action 
on  himself,  from  "  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness."  not  after 
Avealth  ;  and  I  do  fear,  that  without  some  great  spiritual  revolu- 
tion, without  some  new  life  and  love  breathed  into  the  church, 
without  some  deep  social  reforms,  men  Avill  turn  against  each 
other  their  new  accumulations  of  power ;  that  their  wealth  and 
boasted  inventions  will  be  converted  into  weapons  of  destruc- 
tion ;  that  the  growing  prosperity  of  nations  will  become  the  nu- 
triment of  more  wasteful  wars,  will  become  fuel  for  more  devour- 
ing fires  of  ambition  or  revenge. 

3.  Another  cause  of  the  recent  long  cessationof  foreign  wars,  has 
been  the  dread  of  internal  convulsions,  of  civil  wars.  The  spirit 
of  revolution  has,  more  or  less,  penetrated  the  whole  civilized 
world.  The  grand  idea  of  Human  Rights  has  found  its  way  even 
into  despotisms.  Kings  have  less  confidence  in  their  subjects  and 
soldiers.  Their  thrones  totter ;  and  it  is  understood  that  the  next 
general  war  will  be  a  war  not  of  nations,  but  of  principles,  that  ab- 
solutism must  measure  swords  with  liberalism,  despotism  with  free 
constitutions;  and  from  this  terrible  encounter  both  parties  recoil. 


4  THE    ONLY    REMEDY    FOR    WAR.  292 

We  believe  that,  with  or  without  war,  liberal  principles  and  insti- 
tutions are  destined  to  advance,  to  make  the  conquest  of  Europe ; 
and  it  is  thought,  that  these,  being  recognitions  of  human  rights, 
M'ili  be  less  prodigal  of  human  blood  than  absolute  power.  But 
can  we  hope,  that  these,  unsanctioned,  unsustaincd  by  the  Chris- 
tian spirit,  will  ensure  peace  ?  What  teaches  our  own  experience  ? 
BecausQ  free,  have  ive  no  wars  ?  What  indeed  is  the  free  spirit  of 
which  we  so  much  boast  .^  Is  it  not  much  more  a  jealousy  of  our 
own  rights,  tJian  a  reverence  for  the  rights  of  all  ?  Does  it  not  con- 
sist with  the  inflictions  of  gross  wrongs  ?  Does  it  not  spoil  the  In- 
dian, and  enslave  the  African  ?  Is  it  not  anxious  to  spread  bondage 
over  new  regions  ?  Who  can  look  on  this  free  country,  distracted 
by  parties,  rent  by  local  jealousies,  in  some  districts  administering 
justice  by  mobs,  and  silencing  speech  and  the  press  by  conflagra- 
tion and  bloodshed,  who  can  see  this  free  country,  and  say,  that 
liberal  opinions  and  institutions  are  of  themselves  to  banish  war  ? 
No  where  are  the  just,  impartial,  disinterested  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity so  much  needed  as  in  a  free  state.  No  where  are  there 
more  elements  of  strife  to  be  composed,  more  passions  to  be 
curbed,  more  threatened  wrongs  to  be  repressed.  Without  Chris- 
tian principle,  freedom  may  swell  the  tide  of  tumults  and  war. 

4.  One  other  cause  will  probably  be  assigned  by  some  for  the 
long  cessation  of  hostilities — the  greater  success  of.  statesmen  in 
securing  that  long  sought  good  among  nations,  the  balance  of 
power.  Be  it  so.  But  how  soon  may  this  balance  be  disturbed  ? 
How  does  it  tremble  now  ?  Europe  has  long  been  threatened  by 
tlie  disproportionate  growth  of  Russia,  Avhich,  many  fear,  is  one  day 
to  grasp  at  universal  empire.  All  Europe  is  interested  in  setting 
bounds  to  this  half-civilized  despotism.  But  the  great  absolute 
powers,  Prussia  and  Austria,  dreading  more  the  progress  of  liberal 
opinions  than  of  Russian  hordes,  may  rather  throw  themselves  into 
her  scale,  and  be  found  fighting  witli  her  the  battles  of  legitimacy 
against  free  institutions.  Many  wise  men  dismiss  these  fears  as  vain. 
I  presume  not  to  read  the  future.  My  single  object  is,  to  show 
tlie  uncertainty  of  all  means  of  abolishing  war,  unless  joined  with, 
and  governed  by  the  spreading  spirit  of  our  disinterested  faith. 
No  calculations  of  interest,  no  schemes  of  policy,  can  do  the 
work  of  love,  of  the  spirit  of  human  brotherhood:  There  can  be 
no  peace  without,  but  through  peace  Avithin.  Society  must  be  an 
expression  of  the  souls  of  its  members,  Man's  character  moulds 
his  outward  lot  His  destiny  is  woven  by  the  good  or  evil  princi- 
ples which  bear  rule  in  his  breast  I  indeed  attach  importance  to 
all  the  causes  of  peace  which  I  have  now  stated.  They  are  far 
from  powerless;  but  their  power  will  be  spent  in  vain  unless 
by  a  mightier  and  diviner  energy,  by  the  force  of  moral  and  re- 
ligious principles,  the  strength  of  disinterested  love,  the  true  spirit 
of  the  gospel  breathed  into  individuals,  and  through  whole  com- 
munities. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


I 


No.  XXXVI. 

A   SOLEMN  REVIEW   OF  WAR. 


BY    NOAH    WORCESTER,    D.  D. 

We  'regard  with  horror  the  custom  of  the  ancient  heathens 
in  offering  tlieir  children  a  sacrifice  to  idols.  We  are  shocked 
with  the  customs  of  the  Hindoos  in  prostrating  themselves  before 
the  car  of  an  idol  to  be  crushed  to  death ;  in  burning  women  alive 
on  the  funeral  piles  of  their  husbands ;  in  casting  their  children, 
a  monthly  sacrifice,  into  the  Ganges  to  be  drowned.  We  read 
with  astonishment  of  the  sacrifices  made  in  Papal  crusades,  and  in 
Mahometan  and  Hindoo  pilgrimages.  But  that  which  is  fashion- 
able and  popular  in  any  country,  is  esteemed  right  and  honorable, 
whatever  may  be  its  nature  in  the  views  of  men  better  informed. 

But  while  we  look  back,  with  a  mixture  of  wonder,  indignation 
and  pity,  on  many  of  the  customs  of  former  ages,  are  we  careful  to 
inquire,  whether  some  customs  which  we  deem  honorable,  are  not 
the  effects  of  popular  delusion  ?  Is  it  not  a  fact,  that  one  of  the 
most  horrid  customs  of  savage  men  is  now  popular  in  every  nation 
in  Christendom  ?  What  custom  of  the  most  barbarous  nations  is 
more  repugnant  to  the  feelings  of  piety,  humanity  and  justice,  than 
that  of  deciding  controversies  between  nations  by  the  edge  of  the 
sword,  by  powder  and  ball,  or  the  point  of  the  bayonet  ?  What 
other  savage  custom  has  occasioned  half  the  desolation  and  misery 
to  the  human  race  ?  And  what,  but  the  grossest  infatuation,  could 
render  such  a  custom  popular  among  rational  beings  ? 

When  we  consider  how  great  a  part  of  mankind  have  perished 
by  the  hands  of  each  other,  and  how  large  a  portion  of  human 
calamity  has  resulted  from  war,  it  surely  cannot  appear  indifferent, 
whether  this  custom  is  or  is  not  the  effect  of  delusion.  Certainly 
there  is  no  custom  which  deserves  a  more  thorough  examination, 
than  that  which  has  occasioned  more  slaughter  and  misery  than 
all  the  other  abominable  customs  of  the  heathen  world. 

War  has  been  so  long  fashionable  amongst  all  nations,  that  its 
enormity  is  little  regarded ;  or,  when  thought  of^at  all,  it  is  usu- 
ally considered  as  an  evil  necessary  and  unavoidable;  but  cannot 
the  state  of  society  and  the  views  of  civilized  men  be  so  changed 
as  to  abolish  so  barbarous  a  custom,  and  render  wars  unnecessary 
and  avoidable? 

Some  may  be  ready  to  exclaim,  '  none  but  God  can  produce  such 
an  effect  as  the  abolition  of  war ;  and  we  must  wait  for  the  millen- 
nial day.'  We  admit  that  God  only  can  produce  the  necessary 
change  in  the  state  of  society,  and  the  views  of  men ;  but  God 
works  by  human  agency  and  human  means.  None  but  God  could 
have  produced  such  a  change  in  the  views  of  the  British  nation, 
as  to  abolish  the  slave-trade ;  yet  the  event  was  brought  about  by 
a  long  course  of  persevering  and  honorable  exertions  of  beneyo- 

P.  T.      NO.  XXXVI. 


2  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR.  294 

lent  men.  When  the  thing  was  first  proposed,  it  probably  ap- 
peared to  the  majority  of  the  people,  as  an  unavailing  and  chi- 
merical project ;  but  God  raised  up  powerful  advocates,  gave  them 
the  spirit  of  perseverance,  and  finally  crowned  their  efforts  with 
glorious  success.  Now,  it  is  probable,  thousands  of  people  are 
wondering  how  such  an  abominable  traflfic  ever  had  existence  in 
a  nation  which  had  the  least  pretensions  to  Christianity  or  civili- 
aation.  In  a  similar  manner  God  can  put  an  end  to  war,  and  fill 
the  world  with  astonishment,  that  rational  beings  ever  thought  of 
such  a  mode  of  settling  national  controversies. 

As  to  waiting  for  tlie  millennium  to  put  an  end  to  war  without 
any  exertions  on  our  own  part,  it  is  like  the  sinner's  waiting  God's 
time  for  conversion,  while  he  pursues  his  course  of  vice  and  im- 
piety. If  ever  there  shall  be  a  millennium  in  which  the  sword  will 
cease  to  devour,  it  will  probably  be  effected  by  the  blessing  of  God 
on  the  benevolent  exertions  of  enlightened  men.  Perhaps  no  one 
thing  is  now  a  greater  obstacle  in  the  way  of  this  M-ished  for  state 
of  the  church,  than  the  spirit  and  custom  of  war  which  is  main- 
tained by  Christians  themselves.  Is  it  not  then  tiuie,  that  efforts 
should  be  made  to  enlighten  the  minds  of  Christians  on  a  subject 
of  such  infinite  importance  to  the  happiness  of  the  human  race  ? 
That  such  a  state  of  things  is  desirable,  no  enlightened  Chris- 
tian can  deny.  That  it  can  be  produced  without  expensive  and 
persevering  efforts,  is  not  imagined.  But  are  not  such  efforts  to 
exclude  the  miseries  of  war  from  the  world,  as  laudable  as  those 
which  have  for  tlieir  object  the  support  of  such  a  malignant  and 
desolating  custom  ? 

The  whole  amount  of  property  in  the  United  States  is  probably 
of  far  less  value  than  what  has  been  expended  and  destroyed  within 
two  centuries  by  wars  in  Christendom.  Suppose,  then,  that  one- 
fifth  of  this  amount  had  been  judiciously  laid  out  by  peace  asso- 
ciations in  the  different  states  and  nations,  in  cultivating  the  spirit 
and  arts  of  peace,  and  in  exciting  a  just  abhorrence  of  war,  would 
not  the  other  four-fifths  have  been  in  a  great  measure  saved,  be- 
sides many  millions  of  lives,  and  an  imrnense  portion  of  misery  ? 
Had  the  whole  value  of  what  has  been  expended  in  wars,  been  ap- 
propriated to  the  promotion  of  peace,  how  laudable  would  have  been 
the  appropriation,  and  how  blessed  the  consequences ! 

Let  us  glance  at  the  pleas  in  favor  of  war.  *  The  Israelites  were 
permitted,  and  even  commanded  to  make  war  on  the  inhabitants  of 
Canaan.'— To  this  it  may  be  answered,  that  the  Giver  and  Arbiter 
of  life  had  a  right,  if  he  pleased,  to  make  use  of  the  savage  customs 
of  the  age  for  punishing  guilty  nations.  If  any  government  of  the 
present  day  should  receive  a  commission  to  make  war  as  the 
Israelites  did,  let  the  order  be  obeyed ;  but  until  they  have  such  a 
commission,  let  it  not  be  imagined  that  they  can  innocently  make 
T*"k  iS^  ^^'  moreover,  given  encouragement,  that  under  the  reicm 
ofthe  Messiah,  there  shall  be  such  a  time  of  peace,  « that  nation 
shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  war 


295  A    SOLEffiN    REVIEW    OF   WAR.  8 

any  more."  If  this  prediction  shall  ever  be  fulfilled,  the  present 
delusion  in  favor  of  war  must  be  done  away.  How  is  it  to  be 
fulfilled  ?  Probably  not  by  miraculous  ag^ency,  but  by  the  blessing 
of  God  on  the  benevolent  exertions  of  individuals  to  open  the  eyes 
of  their  fellow-mortals  in  respect  to  the  evils  and  delusions  of  war, 
and  the  blessings  of  peace. 

A  second  plea  may  be  this,  that  war  is  an  advantage  to  a  nation, 
as  it  usually  takes  off*  many  vicious  and  dangerous  characters. — But 
does  i*t  war  make  two  such  characters  for  every  one  it  removes  ? 
Is  it  not  in  fact  the  greatest  school  of  depravity,  and  the  greatest 
source  of  mischievous  and  dangerous  characters  that  ever  existed 
among  men  ?  Does  not  a  state  of  war  lower  down  the  standard  of 
morality  in  a  nation,  so  that  a  vast  portion  of  common  vice  is 
scarcely  observed  as  evil  ?  Besides,  is  it  not  awful  to  think  of 
sending  vicious  men  beyond  the  means  of  reformation  and  the 
hope  of  repentance  ?  When  they  are  sent  into  the  army,  what  is 
this  but  consigning  them  to  a  state  where  they  will  rapidly  fill  up 
the  measure  of  their  iniquity,  and  become  "  fitted  to  destruction  ?  " 

It  will  be  pleaded,  thirdly,  that  no  substitute  for  war  can  be 
devised,  which  will  insure  to  a  nation  a  redress  of  wrongs. — But 
is  it  common  for  a  nation  to  obtain  a  redress  of  wrongs  by  war  ? 
As  to  redress,  do  not  the  wars  of  nations  resemble  boxing  at  a 
tavern,  when  both  the  combatants  receive  a  terrible  bruising,  tlien 
drink  together,  and  make  peace,  each,  however,  bearing  for  a  long 
time  the  marks  of  his  folly  and  madness  ?  A  redress  of  wrongs 
by  war  is  so  uncommon,  tliat  unless  revenge  is  redress,  and  mul- 
tiplied injuries  satisfaction,  we  Aould  suppose  that  none  but  mad- 
men Avould  run  the  hazard. 

But  if  the  eyes  of  people  could  be  opened  in  regard  to  the  evils 
and  delusions  of  war,  would  it  not  be  easy  to  form  a  confederacy 
of  nations,  and  organize  a  high  court  of  equity  to  decide  national 
controversies  ?  Why  might  not  such  a  court  be  composed  of  some 
of  the  most  emifient  characters  from  each  nation,  and  a  compliance 
with  its  decisions  be  made  a  point  of  national  honor,  to  prevent 
the  effiision  of  blood,  and  to  preserve  the  blessings  of  peace  ?  Can 
any  considerate  person  say,  that  the  probability  of  obtaining  right 
in  such  a  court,  would  be  less  than  by  an  appeal  to  arms  ?  When 
an  _  individual  appeals  to  a  court  of  justice  for  the  redress  of 
wrongs,  it  is  not  always  the  case  that  he  obtains  his  right.  Still 
such  an  appeal  is  more  honorable,  more  safe,  and  more  certain,  as 
well  as  more  benevolent,  than  for  the  individual  to  attempt  to 
obtain  redress  by  his  pistol,  or  his  sword.  And  are  not  the 
reasons  for  avoiding  an  appeal  to  the  sword  for  the  redress  of 
wrongs,  always  great  in  proportion  to  the  calamities  which  such  an 
appeal  must  naturally  involve  ?  If  this  be  a  fact,  then  there  is 
infinitely  greater  reason,  why  two  nations  should  avoid  an  appeal 
to  arms,  than  usually  exists  against  a  bloody  combat  between  two. 
contending  individuals. 

It  may  he  urged,  also,  that  a  spirit  of  forbearance  on  the  part  of 
a  national  government,  would  operate  as  an  invitation  to  repeated 


4  A   SOLEMN    REVIEW    O^   WAR.  296 

insult  and  aggression. — But  is  this  plea  founded  on  facts  and  ex- 
perience ?  Does  it  accord  with  what  is  well  known  of  human 
nature  ?  Who  are  the  persons  in  society  that  most  frequently  re- 
ceive insult  and  abuse  ?  Are  they  the  meek,  the  benevolent,  and 
the  forbearing  ?  Do  these  more  commonly  have  reason  to  com- 
plain, than  persons  of  quick  resentment,  who  are  ready  to  fight  on 
the  least  provocation  ?  There  are  two  sects  of  professed  Chris- 
tians in  tJiis  country,  peculiar  in  their  opinions  respecting  the  law- 
fulness of  war,  and  the  right  of  repelling  injury  by  viole«e, — 
the  Quakers  and  the  Shakers.  Now,  does  it  appear  from  expe- 
rience, that  their  forbearing  spirit  brings  on  them  a  greater  portion 
of  injury  and  insult  than  is  experienced  by  people  of  other  sects  ? 
Is  not  the  reverse  of  tliis  true  in  fact  ?  There  may  indeed  be  some 
instances  of  such  gross  depravity,  as  a  person's  taking  advantage 
of  their  pacific  character  to  do  them  injury  with  the  hope  of  im- 
punity ;  but  in  general,  their  pacific  principles  and  spirit  command 
the  esteem  even  of  the  vicious,  and  operate  as  a  shield  from  insult 
and  abuse.  How  seldom,  too,  do  children  of  a  mild,  forbearing 
temper  experience  insult  or  injury,  compared  with  the  waspish 
who  will  sting  if  touched  ?  The  same  inquiry  may  be  made  in 
respect  to  persons  of  these  opposite  descriptions  of  every  age,  and 
in  every  situation  of  life ;  and  the  result  will  be  favorable  to  the 
point  in  question. 

Should  any  deny  the  applicability  of  these  examples  to  national 
rulers,  we  will  produce  one  example  undeniably  applicable. 
When  William  Penn  took  the  government  of  Pennsylvania,  he 
distinctly  avowed  to  the  Indians  his  forbearing  and  pacific  prin- 
ciples, and  his  benevolent  wishes  for  uninterrupted  peace  with 
them.  On  these  principles  the  governmeiU  was  administered, 
while  it  remained  in  the  hands  of  3ie  Quakers.  What  tlien  was 
the  effect  ?  Did  this  pacific  character  in  government  invite  aggres- 
sion and  insult  ?  Let  the  answer  be  given  in  the  language  of  the 
Edinburgh  Review  of  the  Life  of  William  Penn.  Speaking  of  the 
treaty  made  by  Penn  with  tlie  Indians,  the  Reviewer  says : — "  Such 
indeed  was  the  spirit  in  which  the  negotiation  was  entered  into, 
and  the  corresponding  settlement  conducted,  that  for  the  space  of 
more  than  seventy  years,  so  long  indeed  as  the  Quakers  retained 
the  chief  power  in  the  government,  the  peace  and  amity  which 
had  been  thus  solemnly  promised  and  concluded,  never  was  vio- 
lated ;  and  a  large  though  solitary  example  afforded,  of  the  facility 
with  which  they  who  are  really  sincere  and  friendly  in  their  views, 
may  live  in  harmony  with  those  who  are  supposed  to  be  peculiarly 
fierce  and  faithless." 

Some  of  the  evils  of  wars  have  already  been  mentioned  ;  Taut 
the  field  is  almost  boundless.  The  demoralizing  and  depraving 
effects  of  war  cannot  be  too  seriously  considered.  We  have  heard 
much  of  the  corrupting  tendency  of  some  of  the  rites  and  customs 
of  the  heathen ;  but  what  custom  of  tie  heathen  nations  had  a 
greater  effect  in  depraving  the  human  character,  than  the  custom 


297  •       A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR.  5 

of  war  ?  What  is  that  feeling  usually  called  a  war-spirit,  but  a 
deleterious  compound  of  enthusiastic  ardor,  ambition,  malignity 
and  revenge,  a  compound  which  as  really  endangers  the  soul  of 
the  possessor,  as  the  life  of  his  enemy !  Who,  but  a  person  de- 
ranged or  deluded,  would  think  it  safe  to  rush  into  the  presence 
of  his  Judge  with  his  heart  boiling  with  enmity,  and  his  brother's 
blood  dripping  from  his  hands  1  Yet  in  time  of  war,  how  much 
pains  is  taken  to  excite  and  maintain  this  blood-thirsty  disposition 
as  essential  to  success  ! 

The  profession  of  a  soldier  exposes  him  to  sudden  and  untimely 
death,  and  at  the  same  time  hardens  his  heart,  and  renders  him 
regardless  of  his  final  account.  When  a  person  goes  into  the 
army,  it  is  expected  of  him  that  he  will  rise  above  the  fear  of 
death.  In  doino^  this,  he  t6o  commonly  ri&'es  above  the  fear  of 
God,  and  all  serious  concern  for  his  soul.  It  is  not  denied  that 
some  men  sustain  virtuous  characters  amidst  the  contaminating 
vapors  of  a  camp,  and  some  may  be  reformed  by  a  sense  of  the 
dangers  to  which  they  are  exposed ;  but  these  are  uncommon  oc- 
currences. 

The  depravity  occasioned  by  war,  is  not  confined  to  the  army. 
Every  species  of  vice  gains  ground  in  a  nation  during  war.  And 
when  a  war  is  brought  to  a  close,  seldom,  perhaps,  does  a  com- 
munity return  to  its  former  standard  of  morals.  In  time  of  peace, 
vice  and  irreligion  generally  retain  the  ground  they  acquired  by  a 
war.  As  every  war  augments  the  amount  of  national  depravity, 
so  it  proportionably  increases  the  dangers  and  miseries  of  society. 

Among  the  evils  of  war,  a  wanton  undervaluing  of  human  life 
ought  to  be  mentioned.  This  effect  may  appear  in  various  forms. 
When  a  war  is  declared  for  the  redress  of  some  wrong  in  regard 
to  property,  if  nothing  but  property  be  taken  into  consideration, 
the  result  is  not  commonly  better  than  spending  five  hundred  dol- 
lars in  a  law-suit  to  recover  a  debt  of  ten.  But  when  we  come 
to  estimate  human  lives  against  dollars  and  cents,  how  are  we 
confounded  !     "  All  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life." 

If  by  the  custom  of  war  rulers  learn  to  undervalue  the  lives 
of  their  own  subjects,  how  much  more  do  they  undervalue  the 
lives  of  their  enemies !  As  they  learn  to  hear  of  the  loss  of  five 
hundred  or  a  thousand  of  their  own  men  with  perhaps  less  feel- 
ing than  they  would  hear  of  the  death  of  a  favorite  horse  or  dog ; 
so  they  learn  to  hear  of  the  death  of  thousands  after  thousands  on 
the  side  of  the  enemy,  with  joy  and  exultation.  If  their  own 
men  have  succeeded  in  taking  an  unimportant  fortress,  or  a 
frigate,  Avith  the  loss  of  fifty  lives  on  their  own  side,  and  fifty-one 
on  the  other,  this  is  a  matter  of  joy  and  triumph.  This  time'  they 
have  got  the  game.  But,  alas !  at  what  expense  to  others  I  This 
expense,  however,  does  hot  interrupt  the  joy  of  war-makers.  They 
leave  it  to  the  wounded,  and  the  friends  of  the  dead,  to  feel  and  to 
mourn. 

*This  dreadful  depravity  of  feeling  is  not  confined  to  rulers  m 
time  of  war.     The  army  becomes  abandoned  to  such  depravity. 


6-  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR.  298 

They  learn  to  undervalue  not  only  the  lives  of  their  enemies,  but 
even  their  own,  and  will  often  wantonly  rush  into  the  arms  of 
death,  for  the  sake  of  military  glory.  And  more  or  less  of  the 
same  want  of  feeling,  and  the  same  undervaluing  of  human  life, 
extend  through  the  nation  in  proportion  to  the  frequency  of  battles, 
and  the  duration  of  war. 

If  any  thing  be  done  by  the  army  of  one  nation,  which  is 
deemed  by  the  other  as  contrary  to  the  modern  usages  in  war, 
how  soon  do  we  hear  the  exclamation  of  Goths  and  Vandals ! 
Yet  what  are  Christians  at  war,  better  than  those  barbarous 
tribes  ?  And  what  is  the  war-spirit  in  them,  better  than  the  spirit 
of  Goths  and  Vandals  ?  When  the  war-spirit  is  excited,  it  is  not 
always  to  be  circumscribed  in  its. operations  by  the  refinements  of 
civilization.  It  is  at  best  a  bloody  and  desolating  spirit.  What 
is  our  boast  of  civilization,  or  Christianization,  while  we  tolerate, 
as  popular  and  justifiable,  the  most  horrid  custom  which  ever  re- 
sulted from  human  wickedness  ?  Should  a  period  arrive  when 
the  nations  "  shall  learn  war  no  more,"  what  will  posterity  think 
of  our  claims,  as  Christians  and  civilized  men  ?  The  custom  of 
sacrificing  men  by  war,  may  appear  to  them  as  the  blackest  of  all 
heathen  superstitions.  Its  present  popularity  may  appear  as  won- 
derful to  ages  to  come,  as  the  past  popularity  of  any  ancient  cus- 
tom now  does  to  us.  What !  they  may  exclaim,  could  those  be 
Christians,  who  could  sacrifice  men  by  thousands  to  a  point  of 
honor,  falsely  so  called,  or  to  obtain  a  redress  of  a  trifling  wrong 
in  regard  to  property  ?  If  such  were  the  customs  of  Christians, 
what  were  they  better  than  the  heathens  of  their  own  time  ? 

Perhaps  some  apologist  may  rise  up  in  that  day,  and  plead,  that 
it  appears  from  the  history  of  our  times,  that  it  was  supposed  ne- 
cessary to  the  safety  of  a  nation,  that  its  government  should  be 
quick  to  assume  a  warlike  tone  and  attitude,  upon  every  infringe- 
ment of  their  rights  ;  that  magnanimous  forbearance  was  consid- 
ered as  pusillanimity,  and  that  Christian  meekness  was  thought 
intolerable  in  the  character  of  a  ruler. 

To  this  others  may  reply— Could  these  professed  Christians 
imagine,  that  their  safety  depended  on  displaying  a  spirit  the 
reverse  of  then:  Master's  ?  Could  they  suppose  such  a  temper  best 
calculated  to  insure  the  protection  of  Him  who  held  their  destiny 
in  his  hands  ?  Did  they  not  know,  that  wars  were  of  a  demoralizing 
tendency,  and  that  the  greatest  danger  of  a  nation  resulted  from  its 
corruption  and  depravity  ?  Did  they  not  also  know,  that  a  haughty 
spirit  of  resentment  in  one  government,  was  very  sure  to  provoke 
a  similar  spirit  in  another  ?  That  one  war  usually  paved  the  way 
for  a  repetition  of  similar  calamities,  by  depraving  each  of  the 
contending  parties,  and  by  fixing  enmities  and  jealousies  wttch 
would  be  ready  to  break  forth  on  the  most  frivolous  occasions  ? 

That  we  may  obtain  a  still  clearer  view  of  the  delusions  of 
war,  let  us  look  back  to  the  origin  of  society.  Suppose  a  family, 
like  that  of  Noah,  to  commence  the  settlement  of  a  country. 
They  multiply  into  a  number  of  distinct  families.      Then  in  the 


Jl99  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OP    WAR.  7 

course  of  years,  they  become  so  numerous  as  to  form  distinct 
governments.  In  any  stage  of  their  progress,  unfortunate  dis- 
putes might  arise  by  the  imprudence,  the  avarice,  or  the  ambition 
of  individuals. 

Now,  at  what  period  would  it  be  proper  to  introduce  the  cus- 
tom of  deciding  controversies  by  the  edge  of  the  sword,  or  an  ap- 
peal to  arms  ?  Might  this  be  done  when  the  families  had  in- 
creased to  ten  ?  Who  would  not  be  shocked  at  the  madness  of 
introducing  such  a  custom  under  such  circumstances  ?  Might  it 
then  with  more  propriety  be  done  when  the  families  had  multi- 
plied to  fifty,  or  to  a  hundred,  or  a  thousand,  or  ten  thousand  ? 
The  greater  the  number,  the  greater  the  danger,  the  carnage  and 
calamity.  Besides,  what  reason  can  be  given,  why  tliis  mode  of 
deciding  controversies  would  not  be  as  proper  when  there  were 
but  ten  families,  as  when  there  were  ten  tliousand  ?  And  why 
might  not  two  individuals  thus  decide  disputes,  as  well  as  two  na- 
tions ? 

Perhaps  all  will  admit  that  the  custom  could  not  be  honorably 
introduced,  until  they  separated,  and  formed  two  or  more  distinct 
governments.  But  would  this  change  of  circumstances  dissolve 
their  ties  as  brethren,  and  their  obligations  as  accountable  beings  ? 
Would  the  organization  of  distinct  governments  confer  a  right  on 
rulers  to  appeal  to  arms  for  the  settlement  of  controversies  ?  Is 
it  not  manifest,  that  no  period  can  be  assigned,  at  which  the  intro- 
duction of  such  a  custom  would  not  be  absolute  murder  ?  And 
shall  a  custom  which  must  have  been  murderous  at  its  commence- 
ment, be  now  upheld  as  necessary  and  honorable  ? 

'  But,  we  must  consider  what  mankind  are,  and  not  what  they 
would  have  been,  had  wars  never  been  introduced.' — True,  we 
should  consider  both ;  and  by  what  ought  to  have  been  the  state  of 
society,  we  may  discover  the  present  delusion.  If  it  would  have 
been  to  the  honor  of  the  human  race,  had  the  custom  of  war 
never  commenced,  it  must  be  desirable  to  dispel  the  present  dark- 
ness, and  exterminate  the  desolating  scourge.  The  same  objection 
might  have  been  made  to  the  proposition  in  the  British  Parliament 
for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  ;  the  same  may  now  be  made 
against  any  attempt  to  abolish  the  custom  of  human  sacrifices 
among  the  Hindoos  ;  yea,  the  same  may  be  urged  against  every 
attempt  to  root  out  pernicious  and  immoral  customs  of  long 
standing. 

Let  it  then  be  seriously  considered,  how  abominably  murderous 
the  custom  must  have  been  in  its  origin ;  how  precarious  the 
mode  of  obtaining  redress ;  how  often  the  aggressor  is  successful ; 
how  small  a  part  even  of  the  successful  nation  is  ever  benefited 
by  tlTe  war;  how  a  nation  is  almost  uniformly  impoverished  by  the 
contest ;  how  many  individuals  are  absolutely  ruined  as  to  property, 
or  morals,  or  both ;  and  what  a  multitude  of  fellow-creatures  are 
hurried  into  eternity  in  an  untimely  manner,  and  an  unprepared 
state ;  and  who  can  hesitate  a  moment  to  denounce  war  as  the 
effect  of  popular  delusion  ? 


8  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR.  300 

Let  every  Christian  seriously  consider  the  malignant  nature  of 
that  spirit  which  war-makers  evidently  wish  to  excite,  and  com- 
pare it  with  the  temper  of  Jesus ;  and  where  is  the  Christian  who 
would  not  shudder  at  the  thought  of  dying  in  the  exercise  of  the 
common  war-spirit,  and  also  at  the  tliought  of  being  the  instru- 
ment of  exciting  such  a  spirit  in  his  fellow-men  ?  Any  custom 
which  cannot  be  supported  but  by  exciting  in  men  the  very  temper 
of  the  devil,  ought  surely  to  be  banished  from  the  Christian  world. 

The  impression  that  aggressive  war  is  murderous,  is  general 
among  Christians,  if  not  universal.  The  justness  of  the  impres- 
sion seems  to  be  admitted  by  almost  every  government  in  going 
to  war.  For  this  reason,  each  of  two  governments  endeavors  to 
fix  on  the  other  the  charge  of  aggression,  and  to  assume  to  itself 
the  ground  of  defending  some  right,  or  avenging  some  wrong. 
Thus  each  excuses  itself,  and  charges  the  other  with  all  the  blood 
and  misery  which  result  from  the  contest.  But  these  facts,  so  far 
from  affording  a  plea  in  favor  of  war,  afford  a  weighty  reason  for 
its  abolition.  If  the  aggressor  is  a  murderer,  and  answerable  for 
the  blood  shed  in  war ;  if  one  or  the  other  must  be  viewed  by 
God  as  the  aggressor ;  and  if  such  is  the  delusion  attending  war, 
that  each  party  is  liable  to  consider  the  other  as  the  aggressor ; 
surely  there  must  be  serious  danger  of  a  nation's  being  involved 
in  tlie  guilt  of  murder,  while  tliey  imagine  they  have  a  cause 
which  may  be  justified. 

So  prone  are  men  to  be  blinded  by  their  passions,  their  preju- 
dices, and  their  interests,  that  in  most  private  quarrels,  each  of 
two  individuals  persuades  himself  that  he  is  in  the  right,  and  his 
neighbor  in  the  wrong.  Hence  tlie  propriety  of  arbitrations, 
references,  and  appeals  to  courts  of  justice,  that  persons  more  dis- 
interested may  judge,  and  prevent  that  injustice  and  desolation 
which  ^ould  result  from  deciding  private  disputes  by  single  com- 
bats, or  acts  of  violence. 

But  rulers  of  nations  are  as  liable  to  be  misled  by  their  pas- 
sions and  interests  as  other  men ;  and,  M'hen  misled,  they  are  very 
sure  to  mislead  those  of  their  subjects  who  have  confidence  in 
their  wisdom  and  integrity.  Hence  it  is  highly  important  that  the 
custom  of  war  should  be  abolished,  and  some  other  mode  adopted 
to  settle  disputes  between  nations.  In  private  disputes  there  may 
be  cause  of  complaint  on  each  side,  while  neither  has  reason  to 
shed  the  blood  of  the  other,  much  less  to  shed  tlie  blood  of  inno- 
cent family  connections,  neighbors  and  friends.  So  of  two  nations, 
each  may  have  cause  of  complaint,  while  neither  can  be  justified 
in  making  war,  and  much  less  in  shedding  the  blood  of  innocent 
people  who  have  had  no  hand  in  giving  the  offence. 

It  is  an  awful  feature  in  the  character  of  war,  and  a  strong  rea- 
son why  itehould  not  be  countenanced,  that  it  involves  the  "^inno- 
cent with  the  guilty  in  the  calamities  it  inflicts,  and  often  falls 
with  the  greatest  vengeance  on  those  who  have  had  no  concern  in 
tlie  management  of  national  affairs.  It  surely  is  not  a  crime  to 
be  born  in  a  country  which  is  afterwards  invaded :  yet  in  how 


801  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    Or    WAR.  ^ 

many  instances  do  war-makers  punish,  or  destroy,  for  no  other 
crime  than  being  a  native  or  resident  of  an  invaded  territory !  A 
mode  of  revenge  or  redress  which  makes  no  distinction  between 
the  innocent  and  the  guilty,  ought  to  be  discountenanced  by  every 
friend  to  justice  and  humanity.  Besides,  as  the  rulers  of  a  na- 
tion are  as  liable  as  other  people  to  be  governed  by  passion  and 
prejudice,  there  is  as  little  prospect  of  justice  in  permitting  war 
for  the  decision  of  national  disputes,  as  there  would  be  in  per- 
mitting an  incensed  individual  to  be,  in  his  own  cause,  complain- 
ant, witness,  judge,  jury  and  executioner.  In  what  point  of  view 
tlien  is  war  not  to  be  regarded  with  horror  ? 

That  wars  have  been  so  overruled  by  God  as  to  be  the  occasion 
of  some  benefits  to  mankind,  will  not  be  denied ;  for  the  same 
may  be  said  of  every  custom  that  ever  was  popular  among  men. 
War  may  have  been  the  occasion  of  advancing  useful  arts  and 
sciences,  and  even  of  spreading  the  gospel;  but  we  are  not  to  do 
evil  that  good  may  come,  nor  to  countenance  evil  because  God 
may  overrule  it  for  good. 

'  But  war  gives  opportunity  for  the  display  of  extraordinary  tal- 
ents— of  daring  enterprise  and  intrepidity.' — True ;  but  let  robbery 
and  piracy  become  as  popular  as  war  has  been ;  and  will  not  these 
customs  give  as  great  opportunity  for  the  display  of  the  same 
talents  and  qualities  of  mind  ?  Shall  we  therefore  encourage  rob- 
bery and  piracy  ?  Indeed  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  not  encourage 
these  crimes  ?  For  what  is  modern  warfare  but  a  popular,  refined 
and  legalized  mode  of  robbery,  piracy  and  murder,  preceded  by  a 
proclamation  giving  notice  of  the  purpose  of  the  war-maker  ?  The 
ansAver  of  a  pirate  to  Alexander  the  Great,  was  as  just  as  it  was 
severe : — "  By  what  right,"  said  the  king,  "  do  you  infest  the  seas  ?  " 
The  pirate  replied,  "By  the  same  that  you  infest  the  universe. 
But  because  I  do  it  in  a  small  ship,  I  am  called  a  robber ;  and  be- 
cause you  do  the  same  acts  with  a  great  fleet,  you  are  called  a 
conqueror !  "  Equally  just  was  the  language  of  the  Scythian  am- 
bassadors to  the  same  deluded  monarch,  "  Thou  boastest,  that  the 
only  design  of  tliy  marches  is  to  extirpate  robbers.  Thou  thyself 
art  the  greatest  robber  in  the  world." 

Is  it  not,  then,  time  for  Christians  to  learn  not  to  attach  glory 
to  guilt,  or  to  praise  actions  which  God  will  condemn  ?  That 
Alexander  possessed  talents  worthy  of  admiration,  will  be  admitted ; 
but  when  such  talents  are  prostituted  to  the  vile  purposes  of  mili- 
tary fame  by  spreading  destruction  and  misery  through  the  world, 
a  character  is  formed  which  should  be  branded  with  everlasting 
infamy.  And  nothing,  perhaps,  short  of  the  commission  of  such 
atrocious  deeds,  can  more  endanger  the  welfare  of  a  community, 
than  the  applause  given  to  successful  military  desperadoes.  Mur- 
der and  robbery  are  not  the  less  criminal  for  being  perpetrated  by 
a  king,  or  a  mighty  warrior. 

Shall  the  Christian  world,  then,  remain  silent  in  regard  to  the 
enormity  of  this  custom,  and  even  applaud  the  deeds  of  men  who 
were  a  curse  to  the  ag-e  in  which  they  lived  ?    On  the  same  prin- 


10  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR. 

ciple  we  may  applaud  the  chief  of  a  band  of  robbers  and  pirates  in 
proportion  to  his  ingenuity,  intrepidity  and  address  in  doing  mis- 
chief. But  if  we  attach  glory  to  such  exploits,  do  we  not  encour- 
age others  to  adopt  the  same  "road  to  fame?  Besides,  would  not 
such  applause  betray  a  most  depraved  taste ;  a  taste  which  makes  no 
proper  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice,  or  doing  good,and  doing 
mischief;  a  taste  to  be  captivated  with  the  glare  of  bold  exploits, 
but  regardless  of  their  end,  or  the  means  by  which  they  were  ac- 
complished, of  the  misery  they  occasion  to  others,  or  the  light  in 
which  they  must  be  viewed  by  a  benevolent  God  ? 

An  important  question  now  occurs.  Is  it  not  possible  to  produce 
such  a  change  in  the  state  of  society,  and  tlie  vieAvs  of  Christian 
nations,  that  every  ruler  shall  feel  his  honor,  safety  and  happiness, 
to  depend  on  his  displaying  a  pacific  spirit,  and  forbearing  to  en- 
gage in  war?  Cannot  peace  societies  be  extended  through  Chris- 
tendom, to  support  its  government,  and  secure  the  nation  from  war? 
In  these  societies  we  may  hope  to  engage  every  true  minister  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  every  Christian  who  possesses  his  temper. 
Let  tlie  contributions  be  liberal,  corresponding  in  some  measure 
with  the  importance  of  the  object,  and  be  judiciously  appropriated  in 
diffusing  light  on  the  subject  in  every  direction,  and  exciting  a  just 
abhorrence  of  war  in  every  breast.  Let  every  land  be  filled  with 
newspapers,  tracts  and  periodical  works,  adapted  to  the  same  pur- 
pose. The  object  so  perfectly  harmonious  with  the  gospel,  might 
be  frequently  the  subject  of  discussion  in  the  pulpit,  of  Sabbath 
and  every  day  conversation,  and  of  our  daily  prayers  to  God. 

Especially  should  early  education  in  families,  common  schools, 
academies  and  universities,  be  made  every  where  subservient  to 
this  object.  "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and 
when  he  his  old,  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  The  power  of  edu- 
cation has  been  tried  to  make  children  of  a  ferocious,  blood- 
thirsty character ;  let  it  now  have  a  fair  chance  to  see  what  it  will 
do  towards  making  mild,  friendly  and  peaceful  citizens. 

As  there  is  an  aversion  to  war  in  a  large  majority  of  every  civil- 
ized people,  and  as  its  evils  have  been  felt  in  every  Christian 
nation,  will  it  not  be  as  easy  to  excite  a  disposition  for  peace,  as 
for  war?  If  then  such  means  should  be  put  in  operation,  as  have 
been  suggested,  would  not  the  most  beneficial  effects  result? 
Would  they  not  gradually  produce  an  important  change  in  tlie 
views  of  society,  and  give  a  new  character  to  Christian  nations  ? 
What  institution  or  project  would  more  naturally  unite  all  pious 
and  virtuous  men  ?  On  whit  effort  could  we  more  reasonably 
hope  for  the  blessing  of  the  God  of  Peace  ? 

Bible  Societies  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  must  naturally  and 
even  necessarily  aid  our  object  Indeed  tlie  two  objects  are  so 
congenial,  that  whatever  promotes  the  one,  will  aid  the  otlier. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  all  Societies  for  Propagating  the  Gospel ; 
and,  should  these  all  cordially  co-operate,  they  must  form  a  most 
powerful  association.     The  societies  of  Friends  and  Shakers  will 


303  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OP    WAR.  ll 

also  come  in  of  course,  and  cordiall)'^  contribute  to  the  glorious 
object.  May  we  not  also  expect  a  ready  acquiescence  and  co- 
operation from  the  particular  churches  of  every  denoniination  in 
the  land  ? 

True ;  there  are  obstacles,  but  none  insunnountable,  because  God 
will  aid,  and  the  time  is  at  hand  when  his  promise  of  universal 
peace  shall  be  fulfilled.  Nor  is  the  object  of  a  party  nature.  The 
delusion  in  respect  to  war,  is  confined  to  no  nation,  sect  or  party ; 
and  our  remarks  are  designed  not  to  cast  reproach  on  any  class, 
but  to  Henefit  all  who  have  not  examined  the  subject,  and  arouse 
Christians  to  united  and  vigorous  efforts  for  the  peace  of  the  world. 

Here  Christians  of  every  sect  may  find  an  object  worthy  of  their 
attention,  in  which  they  may  cordially  unite.  For  this  object  they 
may  with  propriety  leave  behind  all  party  zeal  and  party  distinc- 
tions, and  bury  their  animosities  in  one  united  effort  to  give  peace 
to  the  Avorld.  Let  lawyers,  politicians  and  divines,  men  of  every 
class  who  can  write  or  speak,  consecrate  their  talents  to  the  diffu- 
sion of  light,  and  love,  and  peace.  Should  there  be  an  effort, 
such  as  the  object  demands,  God  will  grant  his  blessing,  posterity 
will  be  grateful,  heaven  will  be  filled  with  joy  and  praise,  and 
"  the  sword  shall  not  devour  forever." 

If  war  is  ever  to  be  set  aside,  an  effort  must  some  time  be  made ; 
and  why  not  now,  as  well  as  at  any  future  day  ?  What  objection 
can  now  be  stated,  which  may  not  be  brought  forward  at  any  after 
period  ?  If  men  must  have  objects  for  the  display  of  heroism,  let 
their  intrepidity  be  shown  in  firmly  meeting  the  formidable  pre- 
judices of  a  world  in  favor  of  war.  Here  is  an  opportunity  for  the 
display  of  such  heroism  as  will  occasion  no  remorse  on  a  dying 
bed,  such  as  God  will  approve  at  the  final  reckoning.  In  this 
cause,  ardent  zeal,  genuine  patriotism,  undaunted  fortitude,  the 
spirit  of  enterprise,  and  every  quality  of  mind  worthy  of  a  hero, 
may  be  gloriously  displayed. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  mankind,  which  renders  war 
necessary  and  unavoidable.  The  Quakers,  Shakers  and  Mora- 
vians are  of  the  same  nature  with  other  people.  All  the  difference 
between  them  and  others  results  from  education  and  habit.  The 
principles  of  their  teachers  are  impressed  on  the  minds  of  old  and 
young ;  and  an  aversion  to  war  and  violence  is  excited,  which  be- 
comes habitual,  and  has  a  governing  ihfluence  over  their  hearts, 
their  passions  and  their  lives.  If  then  it  has  been  found  possible, 
by  the  force  of  education,  to  produce  such  an  aversion  to  war, 
that  people  will  not  even  defend  their  own  lives  by  acts  of  vio- 
lence, shall  it  be  thought  impossible  to  destroy  the  popularity  of 
war,  and  exclude  this  deadly  custom  from  the  abodes  of  men  ? 

It  will  be  generally  admitted,  that  the  Christian  religion  has 
abolished  the  practice  of  enslaving  captives,  and  mitigated  the  evils 
of  war ;  that,  if  the  temper  of  our  Savior  should  universally  pre- 
vail, wars  must  cease  ;  and  that  the  Scriptures  give  reason  to  hope 
for  such  a  time  o9  peace  as  the  result  of  our  religion.  If  so,  does 
it  not  follow,  that  the  custom  of  war  is  directly  opposed  to  the 


12  A    SOLEMN    REVIEW    OF    WAR  304 

gospel ;  that  in  proportion  as  the  g-ospel  has  it3  proper  effect,  an 
aversion  to  war  must  be  excited  ;  and  that  every  Christian  should 
do  all  in  his  power  to  bring  the  custom  into  disrepute,  and  efl'ect 
its  abolition  ? 

Can  Christians  hold  their  peace,  while  this  custom  is  sweeping 
off  myriads  of  their  brethren  into  eternity  by  violence  and  murder? 
Can  they  forbear  to  exert  themselves  to  put  an  end  to  this  volun- 
tary plague  ?  If  war  is  opposed  to  our  religion,  and  God  designs 
to  put  an  end  to  this  scourge  by  the  influence  of  the  gospel,  can 
we  still  sleep  on  without  an  effort  to  secure  this  promised  and 
expected  result  ?  It  can  come  only  from  the  efforts  of  Christians ; 
and  so  long  as  they  acquiesce  in  the  custom,  this  desirable  event 
will  be  delayed.  Christianity  itself  is  not  an  intelligent  agent ; 
neither  a  God,  an  angel,  nor  a  man.  It  is  only  a  system  of  divine 
instructions,  to  be  used  by  men  for  their  own  benefit,  the  benefit 
of  each  other,  and  the  honor  of  its  Autlior.  Like  all  other  instruc- 
tions, they  are  of  no  use  any  further  than  they  are  reduced  to 
practice. 

In  what  way,  then,  can  Christianity  ever  put  an  end  to  war,  but 
by  enlightening  the  minds  of  men  on  the  subject  ?  Can  war 
cease  while  Christians  themselves  are  its  advocates  ?  If  men  are 
to  be  saved  by  the  preaching  of  tlie  gospel,  the  gospel  must  be 
preached ;  and  so,  if  this  world  is  to  be  delivered  from  war  by  the 
gospel,  it  must  be  applied  for  the  purpose.  Its  pacific  tendencies 
must  be  illustrated,  its  opposition  to  war  displayed  in  the  lives  of 
Christians,  and  men  influenced  by  its  motives  to  cease  from  de- 
stroying one  another.  We  expect  the  abolition  of  idolatry,  and 
human  sacrifices ;  but  how  ?  Will  our  Bibles  spread  their  covers 
for  Avings,  fly  through  the  world,  and  convert  the  nations  without 
the  agency  of  Christians  ?  Would  the  gospel  ever  convert  the 
heathen  from  their  idolatry,  if  Christians  should  themselves  en- 
courage idolaters  by  a  compliance  with  their  customs  ?  But  as 
little  may  we  expect  the  gospel  will  make  wars  cease  witliout  the 
exertions  of  Christians,  and  while  they  countenance  the  custom 
by  their  own  example. 

Is  it  pleaded,  that  men  are  not  sufficiently  enlightened,  but  we 
must  wait  for  a  more  improved  state  of  society  ?  Improved  in 
what?  In  the  science  of  blood  ?  Are  stick  improvements  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  peace  ?  Why  not  wait  a  few  centuries  until  the 
heathen  become  more  improved  in  their  idolatrojs  customs,  before 
we  attempt  to  convert  them  to  Christianity  ?  Do  we  expect  that 
continuance  in  idolatry  will  prepare  them  to  receive  the  gospel  ? 
If  not,  let  us  be  consistent,  and,  while  using  means  for  the  con- 
version of  heathens,  let  us  also  use  them  for  the  conversion  of 
Christians ;  for  war  is,  in  fact,  a  heathenish  and  savage  custom, 
most  malignant,  most  desolating,  and  most  horrible,  and  the 
grossest  delusion,  the  greatest  curse,  that  ever  afflicted  a  guilty 
world. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXXVII. 


SIEGES, 

A    MIRROR    OF    WAR. 


A  SIEGE  is  war  in  miniature.  History  is  full  of  them ;  but  we 
can  here  quote  only  a  few  specimens  to  illustrate  in  part  the  atro- 
cities and  horrors  inseparable  from  this  custom. 

Glance  at  the  sufferings  of  its  own  agents  in  this  work  of  blood 
and  fire.  Take  the  case  of  Civdad  Rodrigo.  '  The  toll  of  the 
cathedral  bell  for  seven  gave  the  signal ;  a  low,  murmuring  whis- 
per ran  along  the  advanced  files  of  the  forlorn  hope  ;  stocks  were 
loosened,  and  each  man  pressed  his  cap  more  firmly  down  upon 
his  brow,  and,  with  lip  compressed,  waited  for  the  word  to  move. 
Anon  it  passed  in  whispers  from  rank  to  rank,  and  the  dark  mass 
moved  on  towards  the  foot  of  the  breach.  What  a  moment !  How 
many  thoughts  of  home,  of  years  long  past,  of  last  adieu  to  all  we 
loved !  Each  heart  was  too  full  for  words ;  and  we  marched 
noiselessly  along  to  the  ditch.  All  was  still  and  silent  as  the 
grave.  "Quietly,  my  men,  quietly,"  said  our  leader;  "don't 
press."  Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  a  musket  accidentally 
went  off,  and  suddenly  a  bright  flame  burst  forth  from  the  ram- 
parts, and,  shooting  up  toward  the  sky,  made  the  whole  scene  be- 
fore us  clear  as  noonday,  disclosing  on  one  side  the  dark  ranks 
and  glistening  bayonets  of  the  enemy,  and  on  the  other  the  red 
uniform  of  the  British  columns  compressed  like  a  solid  wall,  and 
stretched  along  the  plain.  ' 

'  There  was  no  time  to  lose  ;  and  the  loud  cry  of  our  leader,  as 
he  spraiig  into  the  trench,  summoned  us  to  the  charge.  Those  in 
the  van,  without  waiting  for  the  leaders,  jumped  after  him,  and 
others  pressed  rapidly  behind  them,  when  a  loud  rumbling  thunder, 
a  hissing,  crackling  noise  followed,  and  from  the  dark  ditch  there 
burst  forth  a  forked,  livid  lightning,  like  the  flame  from  a  volcano, 
and  a  mine  exploded !  Hundreds  of  shells  and  grenades,  scattered 
along  the  ground,  were  ignited  at  the  same  moment ;  the  air 
sparkled  with  the  whizzing  fusees ;  the  musketry  plied  incessantly 
from  the  walls,  and  every  man  of  the  leading  company  of  stormers 
was  blown  to  pieces.  At  the  same  time,  assaults  were  made  on 
all  sides ;  the  whole  fortress  seemed  girt  around  with  fire  ;  and 
from  every  part  arose  the  shouts  of  assailants,  and  the  yells  of 
triumph.  As  for  ourselves,  we  stood  on  the  verge  of  the  ditch 
breathless,  hesitating  and  horror-struck.  A  sudden  darkness  had 
succeeded  to  the  bright  glare ;  but  from  the  midst  of  the  gloom 
the  agonizing  cries  of  our  wounded  and  dying  comrades  rent  our 
very  hearts. 

'  "  Make  way  there  !  make  way  !  here  comes  Mackie's  party," 
cried  their  leader ;   and,  as  he  spoke,  another  forlorn  hope  came 

F.  T.       NO.    XXXVH. 


2  SIEGES.  806 

forward  at  a  run,  leaped  recklessly  into  the  ditch,  and  made 
toward  the  breach.  The  supporting  division  of  stormers  gave  a 
loud  cheer,  and  sprang  after  ihem.  The  rush  was  tremendous ; 
for  scarcely  had  we  reached  the  crumbling  ruins  of  the  rampart, 
when  the  vast  column,  pressing  on  like  a  mighty  torrent,  bore 
down  upon  our  rear.  And  now  commenced  a  scene  no  pen  can 
describe !  The  whole  ground,  covered  with  the  most  deadly  and 
destnictive  combustibles,  was  rent  open  with  a  crash  ;  the  huge 
masses  of  masonry  bound«?d  into  the  air  like  things  of  no  weight ; 
and  the  ringing  clangor  of  tlie  iron  howitzers,  the  crackling  of  the 
fusees,  the  blazing  splinters,  the  shouts  of  defiance,  and  the  more 
than  savage  yells  of  those  in  whose  ranks  alone  the  dead  and  the 
dying  were  numbered,  all  made  up  a  mass  of  sights  and  sounds 
almost  maddening  with  their  excitement.  Yet  on  we  struggled 
over  the  mutilated  bodies  of  the  leading  files  which  almost  filled 
the  way. 

'  By  this  time  the  third  division  had  joined  us ;  and  the  crush 
of  our  thickening  ranks  was  dreadful.  Every  moment  some  well 
known  leader  fell  dead  or  mortally  wounded,  and  his  place  was 
supplied  by  some  bold  fellow  that  would  spring  from  the  leading 
files,  and  scarcely  utter  his  cheer  before  he  himself  was  laid  low. 
Many  a  voice  familiar  to  me,  would  break  upon  my  ear  in  tones 
of  reckless  daring,  and  tlie  next  moment  burst  forth  in  a  death-cry. 
For  more  tlian  an  hour  the  frightful  carnage  continued,  fresh 
troops  constantly  advancing,  but  scarce  a  foot  of  ground  gained ; 
the  earth  belched  forth  its  volcanic  fires,  and  that  terrible  barrier 
no  man  passed.  The  boldest  would  in  turn  leap  into  the  whizzing 
flame  ;  and  the  taunting  cheers  of  the  enemy  triumphed  in  deri- 
sion at  the  effort 

*  "  Stormers,  to  the  front !  Only  the  bayonet !  trust  to  nothing 
but  the  bayonet,"  cried  a  voice  ;  and  the  leader  of  anotlier  forlorn 
hope  bounded  into  the  chasm.  All  the  ofl[icers  sprang  simulta- 
neously after  them ;  the  men  pressed  madiy  on ;  a  roll  of  mur- 
derous musketry  crashed  upon  them,  and  Avas  answered  by  a 
furious  shout.  The  British,  springing  over  the  dead  and  the  dying, 
bounded  like  blood-hounds  on  their  prey.  Meanwhile  the  ram- 
parts trembled  beneath  the  tramp  of  the  light  division  who  had 
forced  the  lesser  breach,  and  Avere  now  coming  upon  the  flank  of 
the  French.  Still  the  garrison  thickened  tlieir  numbers,  and 
bravely  held  their  ground.  Man  to  man  was  now  the  combat 
No  cry  for  quarter ;  no  supplicating  look  for  mercy  ;  it  was  the 
death-struggle  of  vengeance  and  despair !  At  this  instant  an 
explosion  louder  than  the  loudest  thdnder,  shook  the  air ;  the  rent 
and  torn-up  ramparts  flew  into  the  sky ;  the  conquered  and  the 
conquering  were  alike  the  victims.  One  of  the  great  magnzines 
had  been  ignited  by  a  shell ;  and  the  black  smoke,  streaked  with 
a  lurid  flame,  hung  above  the  dead  and  tlie  dying.  The  artillery 
and  the  miisketry  Miere  stilled,  paralyzed,  as  it  were,  by  the  ruin 
and  devastation^  before  tliem.  Both' sides  stood  leaning  on  their 
arms  for  a  moment :  it  was  only  a  moment ;  for  the  British,  roused 
by  the  cries  of  their  wounded  comrades,  uttered  a  fierce  cry  for 


907  SIEGES.  8 

▼eng«ance,  then  closed  upon  the  foe,  and  soon  their  bayonets 
gleamed  in  triumph  on  the  ramparts  of  Civdad  Rodrigo.' 

So  of  other  cities  in  Spain.  '  Thousands,'  says  an  English 
reviewer,  '  rushed  through  the  breaches,  and  trampled  one  another 
to  death  at  the  very  mouth  of  the  French  guns,  which  cut  them 
down  by  regiments ;  while  the  shrieks  and  cries  of  the  wounded, 
the  howls  of  the  maddened,  the  roar  of  ordnance,  the  shouts  of  an 
army,  the  bewilderment  of  midnight,  and  the  horrible  stench  of 
burnt  human  flesh,  lit  up  by  the  flash  of  unnumbered  guns  and 
musketry,  seemed  like  the  wild^burning  waves  of  the  bottomless 
pit  rolling  over  the  souls  of  the  shrieking  lost.  Still  on,  on  they 
rush.  There  is  no  madness  like  a  maddened  mob.  Hundreds 
were  impaled  upon  the  sharp  sword-blades  fastened  in  rows  across 
the  breaches  ;  yet  hundreds  more  pressed  on,  and  fell  upon  other 
tiers  of  the  same  horrible  instruments.  Over  these,  as  they  writhed 
and  shrieked,  mounted  others,  and  trod  and  crushed  them  down, 
till  an  army  passed  over  unharmed  by  the  pointed  steel  beneath ; 
and  even  horsemen  rushed  upon  tliis  causeway  of  living  beings, 
and  trampled  and  crushed  it  into  a  reeking  jelly  of  human  flesh 
and  blood,  and  still  plunged  onward  through  the  crimson  river 
which  flowed  beyond! 

'  Thus  was  the  city  won  ;  and  then  did  the  British  soldiers  who 
had  crossed  the  seas  to  rescue  Spaniards  from  French  thraldom, 
rush  upon  the  city,  and  slaughter,  and  pillage,  and  violate  every 
house.  There  was  no  order,  no  restraint ;  officers  were  shot  in 
the  streets  by  drunken  soldiers ;  old  men  and  children  they  slaugh- 
tered promiscuously  ;  there  was  scarce  a  woman  whose  person 
they  did  not  violate ;  whole  families  were  burnt  up  in  their  own 
houses ;  and  thus  reigned  horror  and  dreadful  carnage  for  several 
days  in  succession.  The  after-scene  was  indeed  "hell  broke 
loose."  We  cannot  read  it  without  a  shudder  ;  and  yet  no  eflTort 
was  made  to  restrain  the  fierce  and  brutal  licentiousness  of  the 
soldiers ! ' 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  sufferings  of  the  besieged.  We  can 
give  only  a  few  brief  specimens.  '  At  the  siege  of  Saragossa,  in 
Spain,  by  the  French,  a  convent  and  the  general  hospital  were 
stormed  and  set  on  fire.  The  sick  and  wounded  threw  themselves 
from  the  windows  to  escape  the  flames ;  and  tiie  horror  of  the 
scene  was  aggravated  by  the  maniacs,  whose  voices,  raving  or 
singing  in  paroxysms  of  increased  madness,  were  heard  amidst 
the  confusion  of  dreadful  sounds.  After  forcing  their  way  into 
the  city,  the  French  occupied  one  side  of  the  street,  and  the 
Spaniards  the  other;  and  the  intervening  space  was  presently 
heaped  with  the  dead,  either  slain  upon  the  spot,  or  thrown  from 
the  windows.  It  was  almost  death  to  appear  by  day -light  within 
reach  of  such  houses  as  were  occupied  by  the  other  party  ;  but, 
under  cover  of  the  night,  the  combatants  frequently  dashed  across 
the  street  to  attack  each  other's  batteries ;  and  the  battles  begun 
there,  were  often  carried  into  the  houses  beyond,  where  they 
fought  from  room  to  room,  and  floor  to  floor.' 

Ucles,  a  decayed  town  in  Spain,  was  taken  by  the  French  in 


4  SIEGES.  303 

1809.  Plunder  was  their  first  object ;  and,  in  order  to  make  the 
people  discover  where  their  valuables  were  secreted,  they  put 
them  to  the  torture.  Having  obtained  all  the  portable  wealth  of 
the  place,  they  yoked  the  inhabitants  like  beasts,  especially  the 
clergy,  loaded  them  with  their  own  furniture,  and  made  them  carry 
it  to  the  castle  hill,  and  pile  it  in  heaps,  when  they  set  fire  to  it, 
and  consumed  the  whole.  They  then  proceeded,  in  mere  wanton- 
ness, to  murder  above  threescore  persons,  dragging  tliem  to  the 
shambles,  that  this  butchery  might  be  comniitted  in  its  proper 
place.  Among  these  sufferers  were  several  Avomen;  and  they 
might  be  regarded  as  happy  in  being  delivered  from  the  worse 
horrors  that  ensued  ;  for  the  French  laid  hands  on  all  the  surviving 
women  of  the  place  for  the  gratification  of  their  brutal  lusts.  They 
tore  tlie  nun  from  the  altar,  the  widow  from  her  husband's  corpse, 
the  virgin  from  her  mother's  arms ;  and  these  victims  of  the  foulest 
brutality  they  abused  till  many  of  them  actually  expired  on  the 
spot ! !  Nor  was  even  this  all ;  but  the  further  abominations,  adds 
the  historian,  perpetrated  by  those  monsters  in  open  day,  without 
the  slightest  attempt  of  their  officers  to  restrain  them,  cannot  even 
be  hinted  at  without  violating  the  decencies  of  language,  and  the 
reverence  due  to  humanity. 

But  take  a  recent  specimen  from  the  British,  the  bombardment 
of  St  Jean  d'Acre,  in  Syria.  English  newspapers  of  the  day 
called  it  "a  most  brilliant  exploit;"  but  let  us  see  what  it  was. 
*  At  half  past  four  in  the  morning,'  says  an  eye-witness,  'all  firing 
ceased,  as  if  by  one  consent,  when — heavens !  what  a  sight ! — the 
whole  town  seemed  to  be  thrown  into  the  air!  We  saw  nothing 
but  one  dense  cloud  extending  tiiousands  of  yards  into  tlie  air  on 
all  sides ;  and  tlien  we  felt  an  awful  shock,  Avhich  gave  tlie  line- 
of-battle  ships  a  keel  of  two  degrees.  It  was  the  explosion  caused 
by  one  of  our  shells  bursting  in  their  main  magazine  of  powder,  by 
which,  to  speak  within  bounds,  two  thousand  souls,  besides  beasts 
of  burden  of  every  description,  were  blown  to  atoms !  The  entire 
loss  of  the  Egyptians  is  computed  at  three  thousand.  At  day- 
light, what  a  sight  was  exposed  to  our  view !  The  stupendous  for- 
tification, that  only  twelve  hours  before  was  among  the  strongest 
in  the  world,  was  so  riddled  that  we  could  not  find  a  square  foot 
which  had  not  a  shot.  I  went  ashore  to  witness  the  devastation  ; 
the  sight  beggared  all  description !  The  bastions  were  strewed 
with  the  dead,  the  guns  dismounted,  and  all  sorts  of  havoc.  The 
spot  of  the  explosion  was  far  worse — a  space  of  two  acres  laid 
quite  bare,  and  hollowed  out  as  if  a  quarry  had  been  worked  there 
for  years!  Heavens!  what  a  sight  was  there  before  me!  Mangled 
human  bodies,  of  both  sexes,  strewed  in  all  directions,  women 
searching  for  their  husbands  and  other  relatives,  tearing  their  hair, 
beating  tlieir  breasts,  and  howling  and  crying  most  piteouslv  !' 
All  this  by  England  herself  in  1840 ! ! 

In  1800,  Genoa,  occupied  by  24,000  French  troops,  was  be- 
sieged at  once  by  a  British  fleet,  and  a  powerful  Austrian  army. 
We  will  not  detail  the  horrors  attendant  on  tlie  sallies  and  as- 
saults ;  but  let  us  look  at  the  condition  of  the  soldiers  and  citizens 


309  SIEGES.  6 

within.  The  former,  worn  down  by  fatigue,  and  wasted  by  famine, 
had  consumed  all  the  horses  in  the  city,  and  were  at  length  re- 
duced to  the  necessity  of  feeding  on  dogs,  cats  and  vermin  which 
were  eagerly  hunted  out  in  the  cellars  and  common  sewers.  Soon, 
however,  even  these  wretched  resources  failed ;  and  they  were 
brought  to  the  pittance  of  four  or  five  ounces  a  day  of  black  bread 
made  of  cocoa,  rye,  and  other  substances  ransacked  from  the  shops 
of  the  city. 

The  inhabitants,  also,  were  a  prey  to  the  most  unparalleled 
sufferings.  The  price  of  provisions  had  from  the  first  been  ex- 
travagantly high,  and  at  length  no  kind  of  grain  could  be  had  at 
any  cost.  Even  before  the  city  was  reduced  to  the  last  extremi- 
ties, a  pound  of  rice  was  sold  for  more  than  a  dollar,  and  a  pound 
of  flour  for  nearly  two  dollars.  Afterwards  beans  were  sold  for 
two  cents  each,  and  a  biscuit  of  three  ounces  weight,  when  pro- 
curable at  all,  for  upwards  of  two  dollars.  A  little  cheese,  and  a 
few  vegetables,  were  the  only  nourishment  given  even  to  the  sick 
and  wounded  in  the  hospitals. 

The  horrors  of  this  prolonged  famine  in  a  city  containing  above 
100,000  souls,  cannot  be  adequately  described.  All  day  the  cries 
of  the  miserable  victims  were  heard  in  the  streets,  while  the 
neighboring  rocks  within  the  walls  were  covered  with  a  famished 
crowd  seeking  in  the  vilest  animals,  and  the  smallest  traces  of 
vegetation,  the  means  of  assuaging  the  intolerable  pangs  of  hun- 
ger. Men  and  women,  in  the  last  agonies  of  despair,  filled  the  air 
with  their  groans  and  shrieks  ;  and  sometimes,  while  uttering 
these  dreadful  cries,  they  strove  with  furious  hands  to  tear  out 
their  ravenino-  entrails,  and  fell  dead  in  the  streets !  At  night  the 
lamentations  of  the  people  were  still  more  dreadful ;  too  agitated 
to  sleep,  and  unable  to  endure  the  agonies  around  them,  they 
prayed  aloud  for  death  to  relieve  them  from  their  sufferings. 

Dreadful  was  the  effect  of  these  protracted  calamities  in  har- 
dening the  heart,  and  rendering  men  insensible  to  any  thing  but 
their  own  disasters.  Children,  lefl  by  the  death  of  their  parents 
in  utter  destitution,  implored  in  vain  the  passing  stranger  with 
tears,  with  mournful  gestures,  and  heart-broken  accents,  to  give 
them  succor  and  relief  Infants,  deserted  in  the  streets  by  their 
own  parents,  and  women  who  had  sunk  down  from  exhaustion  on 
the  public  thoroughfares,  Avore  abandoned  to  their  fate;  and, 
crawling  to  the  sewers,  and  other  receptacles  of  filth,  they  sought 
there,  with  dying  hands,  for  the  means  of  prolonging  their  miser- 
able existence  for  a  few  hours.  In  the  desperation  produced  by 
such  long  continued  torments,  the  more  ardent  and  impetuous 
rushed  out  of  the  gates,  and  threw  themselves  into  tJie  harbor, 
where  they  perished  without  assistance  or  commiseration.  To 
such  straits  were  they  reduced,  that  not  only  leather  and  skins  of 
every  kind  were  devoured,  but  the  horror  at  human  flesh  was  so 
much  abated,  that  numbers  were  supported  on  the  dead  bodies  of 
their  fellow-citizens  ! 

Still  more  cruel,  horrible  beyond  all  description,  was  the  spec- 
tacle presented  by  the  Austrian  prisoners  of  war  confined  on  board 


B  SIEGES.  310 

certain  old  vessels  in  the  port ;  for  such  wcs  the  dire  necessity  at 
last,  that  they  were  loft  for  some  days  without  nutriment  of  any 
kind!  They  ate  their  shoes,  they  devoured  the  leatlier  of  their 
pouches,  and,  scowling  darkly  at  each  other,  their  sinister  glances 
betrayed  tlie  horrid  fear  of  their  being  driven  to  prey  upon  one 
anotlier.  Their  French  guards  were  at  length  removed,  under 
the  apprehension  tliat  they  might  be  made  a  sacrifice  to  ravening 
hunger ;  and  so  great  did  their  desperation  finally  become,  that 
they  endeavored  to  scuttle  their  floating  prisons  in  order  to  sink 
them,  preferring  to  perish  thus  ratlier  than  endure  any  longer  the 
tortures  of  famine. 

Pestilence,  as  usual,  came  in  the  rear  of  such  calamities  ;  and 
contagious  fevers  swept  off  multitudes  whom  the  strength  of  the 
survivors  was  unable  to  inter.  Death  in  every  form  awaited  the 
crowds  whom  common  suffering  had  blended  together  in  the  hos- 
pitals ;  and  the  multitude  of  unburied  corpses  which  encumbered 
the  streets,  tlireatened  the  city  with  depopulation  almost  as  cer- 
tainly as  the  grim  hand  of  famine  under  which  they  were  melting 
away.  When  the  evacuation  took  place,  the  extent  of  the  suffering 
which  the  besieged  had  undergone,  appeared  painfully  conspicuous. 
*  On  entering  the  town,'  says  Thiebault,  '  all  the  figures  we  met, 
bore  the  appearance  of  profound  grief,  or  sombre  despair ;  the 
streets  resounded  with  the  most  heart-rending  cries ;  on  all  sides 
death  was  reaping  its  harAest  of  victims,  and  the  rival  furies  of 
famine  and  pestilence  were  multiplying  their  devastations.  In  a 
word,  both  the  army  and  the  inhabitants  seemed  fast  approaching 
their  dissolution.' 

We  will  give  only  one  specimen  more  in  the  closing  scenes  of 
the  siege  of  Magdeburg,  in  1836.  The  resistance  was  long  and 
obstinate ;  but  at  length  two  gates  were  forced  open  by  the  be- 
siegers, and  Tilly,  marching  a  part  of  his  infantry  into  the  town, 
immediately  occupied  the  principal  streets,  and  with  pointed  can- 
non drove  the  citizens  into  their  dwellings,  there  to  await  their 
destiny.  Nor  were  they  held  long  in  suspense  ;  a  word  from  Tilly 
decided  the  fate  of  Magdeburg.  Even  a  more  humane  general 
would  have  attempted  in  vain  to  restrain  such  soldiers  ;  but  Tilly 
never  once  made  the  attempt  The  silence  of  their  general  left 
the  soldiers  masters  of  the  citizens  ;  and  they  broke  without  re- 
straint into  the  houses  to  gratify  every  brutal  appetite.  The 
prayers  of  innocence  excited  some  compassion  in  the  hearts  of  the 
Germans,  bufnone  in  the  rude  breasts  of  Pappenheim's  Walloons. 
Scarcely  had  tlie  massacre  commenced,  Avhen  the  other  gates  were 
thrown  open,  and  the  cavalry,  with  the  fearful  hordes  of  Croats, 
poured  in  upon  the  devoted  town. 

Now  began  a  scene  of  massacre  and  outrage  which  history  has 
no  language,  poetry  no  pencil  to  portray.  Neither  the  innocence 
of  childhood,  nor  the  helplessness  of  old  age,  neither  youth  nor 
sex,  neither  rank  nor  beauty,  could  disarm  the  fury  of  the  con- 
querors. Wives  were  dishonored  in  the  very  arms  of  their  hus 
bands,  daughters  at  the  feet  of  their  parents,  and  the  defenceless 
Bex  exposed  to  the  double  loss  of  virtue  and  life.     No  condition, 


311  SIEGES.  T 

however  obscure,  or  however  sacred,  could  afford  protection 
against  the  cruelty  or  rapacity  of  the  enemy.  Fifty-three  women 
were  found  in  a  single  church  with  their  heads  cut  off!  The  Croats 
amused  themselves  with  throwing  children  into  the  flames,  and 
Pappenheim's  Walloons  with  stabbing  infants  at  their  mothers' 
breasts  !  Some  officers  of  the  League,  horror-struck  at  scenes  so 
dreadful,  ventured  to  remind  Tilly,  that  he  had  it  in  his  power  to 
stop  the  carnage.  "  Return  in  an  hour,"  was  his  answer,  "  and  I 
will  see  what  is  to  be  done  ;  the  soldier  must  have  some  recom- 
pense for  his  dangers  and  toils  !  " 

No  orders  came  from  the  general  to  check  these  horrors,  which 
continued  Avithout  abatement  till  the  smoke  and  flames  at  last 
stopped  the  course  of  the  plunderers.  To  increase  the  confusion, 
and  break  the  resistance  of  the  inhabitants,  the  invaders  had,  in 
the  commencement  of  the  assault,  fired  the  town  in  several  places ; 
and  a  tempest  now  arose,  and  spread  the  flames  with  frightful 
rapidity,  till  the  blaze  became  universal,  and  forced  the  victors  to 
pause  awhile  in  their  work  of  rapine  and  carnage.  The  confusion 
was  deepened  by  the  clouds  of  smoke,  the  clash  of  swords,  the 
heaps  of  dead  bodies  strewing  the  ground,  the  crash  of  falling 
ruins,  and  the  streams  of  blood  which  ran  along  the  streets.  The 
atmosphere  glowed  ;  and  the  intolerable  heat  finally  compelled 
even  the  murderers  to  take  refuge  in  their  camp.  In  less  than 
twelve  hours,  this  strong,  populous  and  flourishing  city,  one  of  the 
finest  in  all  Germany,  was  a  heap  of  ashes,  with  the  exception  of 
only  two  churches,  and  a  few  houses. 

Scarcely  had  the  flames  abated,  when  the  soldiers  returned  to 
satiate  anew  their  rage  for  plunder  amid  the  ruins  and  ashes  of  the 
town.  Multitudes  were  suffocated  by  the  smoke  ;  but  many  found 
rich  booty  in  the  cellars  where  the  citizens  had  concealed  their 
most  valuable  effects.  At  length  Tilly  himself  appeared  in  the 
town  after  the  streets  had  been  cleared  of  ashes  and  corpses. 
Horrible  and  revolting  to  humanity  was  the  scene  that  presented 
itself!  the  few  survivors  crawling  from  under  the  dead ;  little  chil- 
dren wandering  about,  with  heart-rending  cries,  in  quest  of  their 
parents  now  no  more ;  and  infants  still  sucking  the  dead  bodies  of 
their  mothers  !  More  tlian  five  thousand  bodies  were  thrown  into 
the  Elbe  just  to  clear  the  streets  ;  a  far  greater  number  had  been 
consumed  by  the  flames  ;  the  entire  amount  of  the  slaughter  was 
estimated  at  thirty  thousand ;  and  in  gratitude  to  tlie  God  of  peace 
for  such  horrid  success  in  the  butchery  of  his  children,  for  this 
triumph  of  Christian  over  Christian  in  blood,  and  fire,  and  rapine, 
and  brutal  lust,  a  solemn  mass  was  performed,  and  7\  Deum  sung 
amid  the  discharge  of  artillery ! ! 

We  have  no  room  for  any  more  specimens  ;  but,  if  you  will  just 
think  of  the  siege  of  Ismail  with  its  70,000  victims,  of  Ostend  with 
its  120,000,  of  Mexico  with  its  150,000,  of  Carthage  with  its 
700,000,  of  Jerusalem  with  more  than  a  million,  of  Troy  with 
nearly  two  millions,  you  may  form  some  faint  conception  of  the 
atrocities  and  woes  with  which  this  single  department  of  warfare 
has  covered  the  earth. 


9  SIEGES.  91^ 

Such,  then,  is  war — even  among  nominal  Christians  in  the  seven 
teenth  and  nineteenth  centuries !  Nor  are  these  terrible  evils 
merely  accidental,  undesigned,  such  as  warriors  w/iuld  fain  pre- 
vent if  they  could.  No;  they  are  the  very  results  at  which  war 
aims ;  over  which  it  exults  in  wild  out-bursts  of  joy ;  for  which  even 
Christian  ministers  return  solemn  thanks  to  a  God  of  purity  and 
love ;  in  commemoration  of  which  history  writes  her  eulogies,  and 
poetry  chants  her  peans,  and  sculpture  chisels  her  marble  and  her 
granite. 

Such  is  the  very  nature  of  war,  a  tissue  of  guilt  and  suffering. 
Then  tell  us,  lovers  of  your  country,  does  patriotism  want  such  a 
compound  of  cruelty  and  crime,  such  an  engine  of  blood,  rapine 
and  lust,  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  just  and  generous  purposes  ? 
Say,  friends  of  universal  man,  does  humanity  prompt  or  sanction 
the  atrocities  and  horrors  of  such  a  custom  ?  Speak,  disciples  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  tell  us,  does  your  religion  lend  its  coun- 
tenance to  such  a  mass  of  abominations  and  woes  ?  Can  it  cherish 
in  its  pure  and  loving  bosom,  such  a  reptile  of  lust,  such  a  scorpion 
of  revenge,  such  a  blood-leech  of  the  world,  a  fiend  so  fierce  for 
carnage  and  devastation  ? 

Then  rally,  one  and  all,  for  the  extinction  of  a  custom  so  foul 
and  baleful.  Come  up  to  the  work  in  earnest,  and  vow  upon  the 
altar  of  God  and  humanity,  never  to  cease  from  your  efforts  so 
long  as  a  single  foot-print  of  the  monster  remains  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Pray  against  it :  talk  against  it ;  preach  against  it ; 
write  against  it ;  circulate  tracts  and  books  against  it ;  give  your 
money  to  sustain  the  operations  now  in  progress  for  its  abolition  ; 
hold  it  up  in  all  its  pollution  and  blood  before  tiie  mass  of  every 
community  ;  infuse  into  your  children,  your  pupils,  your  congrega- 
tion, into  all  within  the  reach  of  your  influence,  a  deep,  undying 
abhorrence  of  it,  and  thus  help  to  form  such  a  public  sentiment  as 
shall  ere  long  banish  war,  witli  all  its  crimes  and  woes,  from 
Christendom  forever. 

We  appeal  especially  to  tJie  gentler  sex.  And  will  not  Momen, 
cultivated.  Christian  women,  join  us,  with  all  their  hearts,  in  such 
a  work  of  peace  and  love  ?  Sisters  of  humanity,  you  were  made 
to  weep  for  the  woes  of  human  kind  ;  and  will  you  not  strive  with 
us  to  avert  from  ourselves,  as  well  as  from  others,  evils  like  those 
we  have  so  faintly  sketched  in  these  pages  ?  You  see  what  your 
own  sex  have  suffered  from  war ;  and  in  the  name  of  the  wives  it 
has  widowed,  of  the  mothers  it  has  made  childless,  of  the  daugh- 
ters it  has  doomed  to  orphanage  and  want,  of  the  sisters  it  has 
bereft  of  brothers  beloved,  of  the  plighted  ones  whose  fondest 
hopes  it  has  crushed  in  an  hour,  of  all  the  thousands  and  millions 
it  has  subjected  to  indignities  worse  than  death  itself,  we  beseech, 
we  conjure  you  to  lend  your  aid  in  putting  an  end  forever  to  this 
foul  and  terrible  scourire. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  xxxvni. 


A    GLIMPSE    OF   WAR. 


BV    WM.    E.    CHANNING,    D.  D. 

I  HAVE  chosen  for  our  consideration  the  subject  of  War  ;  a 
subject  which  has  strong  and  peculiar  claims  on  Christian  minis- 
ters. Their  past  neglect  of  it  is  their  reproach ;  and  it  is  time 
that  this  reproach  were  wiped  away,  and  our  influence  combined, 
in  illustrating  and  enforcing  the  slighted  and  almost  forgotten 
precepts  of  Christianity  on  the  subject  of  war.  I  wish  to  awaken 
in  your  breasts  a  firm  and  holy  purpose  to  toil  and  suffer  in  the 
great  work  of  abolishing  this  worst  vestige  of  barbarism,  this  crjoss- 
estjDutr§g(^im-4he  piiiicipje^^^^  The  day,  I  trust,  is 

commg,  Avhen  Christians  will  lookHbact  with  gratitude  and  affec- 
tion on  those  men  who,  in  ages  of  conflict  and  bloodshed,  enlisted 
under  the  banner  of  philanthropy  and  peace,  cherished  generous 
hopes  of  human  improvement,  withstood  the  violence  of  corrupt 
opinion,  held  forth  amidst  general  darkness  the  pure  and  mild  light 
of  Christianity,  and  thus  ushered  in  a  new  and  peaceful  era  in  the 
history  of  mankind.  — -* 

In  detailing  the  miseries  and  crimes  of  war,  there  is  no  temp- 
tation to  recur  to  unreal  or  exaggerated  horrors.     No  strength, 
no  depth  of  coloring  can  approach  the  reality.     It  is  lamentablg.._ 
that  we  need  a  delineation  of  its  calamities  to  rouse  us  to  exel^M^ 
The  mere  idea  of  human  beings  employing  every  power  andlac-' 
ulty  in  the  work  of  mutual  destruction,  ought  at  once  to  strik^'a 
horror  into  our  minds.     But  on  this  subject,  our  sensibilities  rff^ 
dreadfully  sluggish  and  dead.     Our  ordinary  sympathies  seem  to 
forsake  us,  when  war  is  named.     The  sufferings  and  death  of  a 
single  fellow  being  often  excite  a  tender  and  active  compassion ; 
but  we  hear  without  emotion  of  thousands  enduring  every  variety 
of  wo  in  war.     A  single  murder   in  peace  thrills  through  "buf"*^ 
frames ;  the  countless  murders  of  war  are  heard  as  an  amusing 
tale.     The  execution  of  a  criminal  depresses  the  mind,  and^  phi- 
lanthropy is  laboring  to  substitute  milder  punishments  for  death ; 
but  benevolence  has  hardly  made  an  effort  to  snatch  from  sudden 
and  untimely  death,  the  innumerable  victims  immolated  on  the 
altar  of  war.     This  insensibility  demands,  that  the  miseries  and 
crimes  of  war  should  be  often  placed  before  us  with  minuteness,.   ., 
with  energy,  with  strong  and  indignant  emotion. 

The  miseries  of  war  may  be  easily  conceived  from  its  very 
nature.  By  war,  we  understand  the  resort  of  nations  to  the  most 
dreaded  methods  of  destruction  and  devastation.  In  war,  the 
strength,  skill,  courage,  energy,  and  resources  of  a  whole  people 

*  From  his  Discourse  in  181G  before  ihe  Convention  of  Congregational 
Ministers  in  Mcissaclmsetts. 

P.  T.      NO.  XXXVIII. 


S  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  314 

are  concentrated  for  the  infliction  of  pain  and  death.  The  bowels 
of  the  earth  are  explored,  the  niorit  active  elements  combined,  the 
resources  of  ait  and  nature  exhausted,  to  increase  the  power  of 
man  in  destroying  hi«j  lellow-creatures. 

Would  you  learn  what  destruction  man,  when  thus  aided,  can 

spread  around  him  ?    Look  at  that  extensive  region,  desolate  and 

overspread  with  ruins ;  its  forests  rent  and  leafless,  as  if  blasted 

lightning;  its  villages    prostrated,  as  by  an  earthquake;  its 

!lds  barren,  as  if  swept  by  storms.  Not  long  ago,  tlie  sweet  in- 
fluences of  heaven  descended  on  no  happier  or  more  fruitful  region 
than  tliis.  But  ravaging  armies  prowled  over  it ;  war  frowned  on 
it ;  and  its  fruitfulness  and  happiness-  are  fled.  Here  were  gath- 
ered thousands  and  ten  thousands  from  distant  provinces,  not  to 
embrace  as  brethren,  but  to  renounce  the  tie  of  brotherhood ;  and 
thousands,  in  the  vigor  of  life,  when  least  prepared  for  death,  were 
hewn  down,  and  scattered  like  chaff"  before  the  whirlwind. 

Repair,  in  thought,  to  a  field  of  recent  battle  Here  are  heaps 
of  slain  wgltering  in  their  own  blood,  their  bodies  mangled,  their 
limbs  shattered,  and  in  many  a  form  and  countenance  not  a  vestige 
left  of  their  former  selves.  Here  are  multitudes  trodden  under 
foot,  and  the  war-horse  has  left  the  trace  of  his  hoof  in  many  a 
crushed  and  mutilated  frame.     Here  are  severer  sufferers ;  they 

Llive,  but  live  without  hope  or  consolation.  Justice  despatches 
the  criminal  with  a  single  stroke ;  but  tlie  victims  of  war,  falling 
by  casual,  undirected  blows,  often  expire  in  lingering  agony,  their 
deep  groans  applying  in  vain  to  compassion,  their  limbs  writhing 
with  pain  on  the  earth,  their  lips  parched  with  a  burning  thirst, 
their  wounds  open  to  the  chilling  air,  the  memory  of  tender  rela- 
tives rushing  on  their  minds,  but  not  an  accent  of  friendship  or 
comfort  reaching  their  ears.  Amid  tliis  scene  of  horrors,  you  see 
the  bird  and  beast  of  prey  diinliing  the  blood  of  the  dead,  and  with 
a  merciful  cruelty  ending  tlie  struggles  of  the  dying ;  and,  still 
more  melancholy !  you  see  human  plunderers  bereft  of  all  human 
sympathy,  turning  a  deaf  ear  on  tJie  wounded,  and  rifling  tlie  warm 
and  almost  palpitating  remains  of  the  slain. — If  you  extend  your 
eye  beyond  the  immediate  field  of  battle,  and  follow  the  track  of 
the  pursuing  and  victorious  army,  you  see  tlie  roads  strewed  with 
the  dead ;  you  see  scaUgcedJlof ks,  and  harvests  trampled  under 
foot,  the  smoking  ruins  of  cottages,  and  the  miserable  inhabitants 
flying  in  wanr"aKd^espair !  Nor  even  yet  are  the  horrors  of  a 
single  battle  exhausted.  Some  of  the  deepest  pangs  which  it 
inflicts,  are  silent,  retired,  enduring,  to  be  read  in  the  countenance 
of  the  widow,  in  ^e  unprotected  orphan,  in  tlie  aged  parent,  in  af- 
fection cherishing  the  memory  of  the  slain,  and  weeping  that  it 
could  not  minister  to  their  last  pangs. 

I  have  asked  you  to  traverse  in  thought  a  field  of  battle.  There 
is  anoUier  scene  often  presented  in  war,  perhaps  more  terrible — 
I  refer  to  a  besieged  city.  The  most  horrible  pages  in  history  are 
those  which  record  the  reduction  of  strongly  fortified  places!  In 
a  besieged  city  are  collected  all  descriptions  and  ages  of  mankind, 


815  A    GLIMPSE    OP    WAR.  3 

women,  children,  the  old,  the  infirm.  Day  and  night  the  weapons 
of  death  and  conflagration  fly  around  them.  They  see  the  ap- 
proaches of  the'foeV  the  trembling  bulwark,  and  the  fainting 
strength  of  their  defenders.  They  are  Avorn  with  fomijie,  and  on 
famine  presses  pestilence.  At  length  the  assault  is  made  ;  every 
barrier  is  broken  ^3wn^  and  a  la^dess  soldiery,  exasperated  by  re- 
sistance, and  burning  with  lust  and  cruelty,  are  scattered  through 
the  streets.  The  domestic  retreat,  even  the  house  of  God,  is  no 
longer  a  sanctuary.  Venerable  age  is  no  protection ;  female 
purity  no  defence.  In  presence  of  the  dying  husband,  and  the 
murdered  child,  the  wife  is  spared,  not  from  mercy,  but  to  gratify 
the  basest  passion.  These  are  heart-rending  scenes,  but  history 
abounds  with  them  ;  and  what  better  fruits  can  you  expect  from 
war? 

But  the  horrors  of  war  are  not  yet  exhausted.  Consider  the 
condition  of  those  who  are  immediately  engaged  in  war.  The 
sufferings  of  soldiers  from  battle  we  have  seen ;  but  their  suflfer- 
ings  are  not  limited  to  the  period  of  conflict.  The  whole  of  war, 
is  a  succession  of  exposures  too  severe  for  human  nature.  Death 
employs  other  weapons  than  the  sword.  It  is  computed,  that  in 
ordinary  wars,  greater  numbers  perish  by  sicknessUhaiiJiL-battle. 
Exhausted  by  long  and  rapid  marches,  by  unwholesome  food,  by 
exposure  to  storms,  by  excessive  labor  under  a  burning  sky 
through  the  day,  and  by  interrupted  and  restless  sleep  on  the 
damp  ground,  and  under  the  chilling  atmosphere  of  night,  thou- 
sands after  thousands  of  the  young  pine  away  and  die.  They 
anticipated  that  they  should  fall,  if  to  fall  should  be  their  lot,  on 
what  they  called  the  field  of  honor ;  but  they  perish  in  the  in- 
glorious and  crowded  hospital,  surrounded  with  sights  and  sounds 
of  wo,  far  from  home  and  every  friend,  and  denied  those  tender 
offices  which  sickness  and  expiring  nature  require. 

But  do  not  stop  here  ;  consider  the  influence  of  war  on  the 
character  of  these  unhappy  men.  Their  trade  is  butchery — their 
business  destruction.  They  hire  themselves  for  slaughter,  place 
themselves,  servile  instruments,  passive  machines,  in  the  hands  of 
unprincipled  rulers,  to  execute  the  bloodiest  mandates,  without 
reflection,  without  mercy,  without  a  thought  on  the  justice  of  the 
cause  in  which  they  are  engaged.  What  a  school  is  this  for  the 
human  character?  From  men  trained  in  battle  to  ferocity  and 
carnage,  accustomed  to  the  perpetration  of  cruel  deeds,  accus- 
tomed to  take  human  life  without  sorrow  or  remorse,  habituated  to 
esteem, an  unthinking  courage  a.  substitute  for  every  virtue,  en- 
couraged by  plunder  to  prodigality,  ta^iglit  ..improvidence,  by  per- 
petual hazard  and  exposure,  restrained  only  by  an  iron  discipline 
which  is  withdrawn  in  peace,  and  unfitted  by  the  restless,  and  ir- 
regular career  of  war  for.the  calm  and  uniform  pursuits  of  ordi- 
nary life;,  from  such  men,  wh^t  can  be  expected  but  hardness  of 
heart,  profligacy  of  life,  contempt  of  the  restraints  of  society, 
and  of  the  authority  of  God? 

The  influence  of  war  on  the  community  at  large,  on  its  pros- '- 


( 


4'  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  316 

perity,  its  morals,  and  its  political  institutions,  though  less  striking^ 
than  on  the  soldiery,  is  yet  most  baleful.  Hqvt^  often  is  a  com- 
munity impoverished  to  sustain  a  wq^r  in  which  it  has  no  interest 
Public  burdens  are  aggravated,  whilst  the  means  of  sustaining 
them  Src" reduced,  rrilerrial"  Luproveinents  are  neglected.  The 
revenue  of  the  _state_  is  exhausted  in  military  establishments,  or 
flows  through  secret  channels  into  the  coffers  of  corrupt  men 
whom  war  exalts  to  power  and  office.  The  regular  employments 
of  peace  are  disturbed.  Industryin  many  of -its  branches  is  sus- 
pended.    The  laborer,  ground  wiHi''  want,  and  driven  to  despair 

/by  fhe  clamor  of  his  suffering  family, becomes  a  soldier  in  a  cause 
/  which  he  condemns,  and  thus  the  country  is  drained  of  its  most 
^.effective  population.     The  people  are  stripped  and  reduced,  whilst 
the  authors  of  war  retrench  not  a  comfort,  and  often  fatten  on  the 
spoils  and  woes  of  their  country. 

Bat  tlie  influence  of  war  on  the  morals  of  society  is  still  more 
fatal.  The  suspension  of  industry,  and  the  pressure  of  want  mul- 
tiply vice.  Criminal  modes  of  subsistence  are  the  resource  of 
the  suffering.  Public  and  private  credit  are  shaken.  Distrust  and 
fear  take  the  place-t^f-irratilal  confidence.  Commerce  becomes  a 
system  of  stratagem  and  collusion ;  and  the  principles  of  justice 
receive  a  shock  which  many  years  of  peace  are  not  able  to  repair. 
In  war,  the  moral  sentiments  of  a  community  are  perverted  by 
their  a4miration_of  military  exploits.  Evc^yeye  is  fixed  on  the 
conqueror,  and  every  tongue  busy  with  hisog^ds.  The  milder 
.virtues  of  Christianity  are  ■edit»etf"1B^  the  baleful  lustre  thrown 

'  round  a  ferocious  courage.  The  disinterested,  the  benignant,  the 
merciful,  the  forgiving,  those  v/hom  Jesus  has  pronounced  blest 
and  honorable,  must  ffive  place  to  the  hero  whose  character  is 
stained  not  only  with  blood,  but  sometimes  with  the  foulest  vices, 
all  whose  stains  are  washed  away  by  victory. 

War  also  diffuses  through  a    community  malignant  passions. 

/  Nations,  exasperated  by  mutual  injuries,  burn  for  each  other's  hu- 

Vpiiliation  and  ruin.  They  delight  to  hear  tliat  the  most  dreadful 
scourges  are  desolating  a  hostile  community.  The  slaughter  of 
thousands  of  fellow-beings,  instead  of  awaking  pity,  flushes  them 
with  delirious  joy,  illuminates  the  city,  and  dissolves  the  whole 
country  in  revelry  and  riot     Thus  the  heart  of  man  is  hardened. 

/  His  worst  passions  are  nourished.     Were  the  prayers,  or  rather 

i  the  curses  of  warring  nations  prevalent  in  heaven,  the  whole  earth 

\ would  long  since  have  become  a  desert 

But  war  not  only  assails  the  prosperity  afld  morals  of  a  commu- 
nity ;  its  influence  on  the  political  condition  is  alarming.  '  It  arms 
government  with  a  dangerous  patronage,  multiplies  dependants 
and  instruments  of  oppression,  and  generates  a  power  which,  in 
the  hands  of  the  energetic  and  aspiring,  can  hardly  fail  to  pros- 
trate a  free  constitution.  War  organizes  a  body  of  men  who  lose 
the  feelings  of  the  citizen  in  the  soldier ;  whose  habits  detach 
them  from  tlie  community  ;  whose  ruling  passion  is  devotion  to  a 
chief;   who  are  inured  in  the  camp  to  despotic  sway ;   who  are 


317  A    GLIMPSE    OP    WAR.  5^ 

accustomed  to  accomplish  their  ends  by  forcie,  and  to  sport  with 
the  rights  and  happiness  of  their  fellow-beings  ;  who  delight  in 
tumult,  adventure  and  peril,  and  turn  with  disgust  and  scorn  from 
the  quiet  labors  of  peace.  Is  it  wonderful,  that  such  protectors  of 
a  state  should  look  with  contempt  on  the  Aveakness  of  the  pro- 
tected, and  should  lend  themselves  base  instruments  to  the  subver- 
sion of  that  freedom  which  they  do  not  themselves  enjoy  ?  In  a 
community,  where  precedence  is  given  to  the  military  profession, 
freedom  cannot  long  endure. 

Thus  war  is  to  be  ranked  among  the  most  dreadful  calamities 
which  fall  on  a  guilty  world ;  and,  what  deserves  consideration, 
and  gives  to  war  a  dreadful  pre-eminence  among  the  sources  of 
human  misery,  it  tends  to  multiply  and  perpetuate  itself  witliout 
end.  It  feeds  and  grows  on  the  blood  which  it  sheds.  T^ie^as- 
sions,  from  which  it  springs,  gain  strength  and  fury  from  indul- 
gence. "The  successful  nation,  flushed  by  victory,  pants  for  new 
laurels ;  whilst  the  humbled  nation,  irritated  by  defeat,  is  impa- 
tient to  redeem  its  honor  and  repair  its  losses.  Peace  becomes  a 
truce,  a  feverish  repose,  a  respite  to  sharpen  anew  the  sword,  and 
to  prepare  for  future  struggles.  Under  professions  of  friendship, 
lurk  hatred  and  distrust ;  and  a  spark  suffices  to  renew  the  mighty 
conflagration.  When  from  these  causes,  large  military  establish- 
ments "TtfiB  formed,  and  a  military  spirit  kindled,  war  becomes  a 
necessary  part  of  policy.  A  foreign  field  must  be  found  for  the 
energies  and  passions  of  a  martial  people.  To  disband  a  numer- 
ous and  veteran  soldiery,  would  be  to  let  loose  a  dangerous  horde 
on  society.  The  blood-hounds  must  be  sent  forth  on  other  com- 
munities, lest  they  rend  the  bosom  of  their  own  country.  Thus 
war  extends  and  multiplies  itself.  No  sooner  is  one  storm  scat- 
tered, than  the  sky  is  darkened  with  the  gathering  horrors  of  an- 
other. Accordingly,  war  has  been  the  mournful  legacy  of  every 
generation  to  that  which  succeeds  it.  Every  age  has  had  its  con- 
flicts. Every  counti'j^as  in  turn  been  the  seat  of  devastation  and 
slaughter.  The  dearest  interests  and  rights  of  every  nation  have 
been  again  and  again  committed  to  the  hazards  of  a  game,  of  all 
others  the  most  uncertain,  and  in  which,  from  its  very  nature,  suc- 
cess too  often  attends  on  the  fiercest  courage  and  the  basest  fraud. 

But  how,  it  will  be  asked,  can  we  contribute  to  the  abolition  of 
war  ?  Has  not  war  its  origin  in  the  ambition  of  princes  ?  '  And 
how  shall  we  obtain  an  influence  over  courts  and  cabinets,  and 
sway  the  minds  of  those  whose  power  and  station  almost  place 
them  beyond  the  reach  of  instruction  ? — It  is  indeed  true,  that  the 
ambition  of  rulers  is  a  frequent  cause  of  war.  The  desire  of  build- 
ing up  their  power  at  home,  or  of  extending  their  empire  abroad, 
of  surpassing  other  sovereigns,  their  natural  and  only  rivals,  of 
signalizing  their  administration  by  brilliant  deeds,  and  of  attract- 
ing louder  applause  than  ordinarily  attends  on  pacific  virtues ;  this 
aspiring  principle  has  in  all  ages  thrown  the  Avorld  into  tumult. 
But  the  ambition  of  rulers  does  not  lie  at  the  foot  of  war.     We 


6*  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  318 

must  remember,  that  ambition  is  directed  and  inflamed  by  public 
opinion.  Were  there  not  a  propensity  in  the  mass  of  men  to  give 
honor  to  warhke  triumphs,  rulers  would  never  seek  distinction  iii 
this  bloody  career.  The  deepest  and  most  operative  causes  of 
war  are  to  be  found  in  the  universal  principles  of  human  nature, 
in  passions  which  sway  all  classes  of  men ;  and  therefore,  religious 
instructors,  whose  office  it  is  to  operate  on  tlie  human  heart,  and  to 
purify  its  principles,  may  do  more  than  any  other  men  to  counter- 
act tiie  causes  of  war. 

To  assist  us  in  this  work,  let  us  inquire  into  the  passions  and 
principles  which  generate  war.  And  here,  I  doubt  not,  many  will 
imagine  that  the  first  place  ought  to  be  given  to  malignity  and 
hatred  ;  but  justice  to  human  nature  requires,  that  we  ascribe  to 
national  animosities  a  more  limited  operation,  than  is  usually  as- 
cribed to  tliem,  in  the  production  of  this -calamity.  It  is  indeed 
true,  that  ambitious  men,  who  have  an  interest  in  war,  too  often 
accomplish  their  views  by  appealing  to  the  malignant  feelings  of 
a  community,  by  exaggerating  its  wrongs,  ridiculing  its  forbear- 
ance, and  reviving  ancient  jealousies  and  resentments ;  but, were 
not  malignity  and  revenge  aided  by  the  concurrence  of  higher 
principles,  the  false  splendor  of  this  barbarous  custom  might  easily 
be,obscured,  and  its  ravages  stayed. 
'  One  of  the  great  springs  of  war  may  be  found  in  a  very  strong 
artd  general  propensity  of  human  nature — the  love  of  excitement, 
of  emotion,  of  strong  interest.  No  state  of  mind,  not  even  positive 
suffering,  is  more  painful  than  the  want  of  interesting  objects. 
The  vacant  heart  preys  on  itself,  and  often  rushes  with  impatience 
from  the  security  which  demands  no  effort,  to  the  brink  of  peril. 
Why  has  the  first  rank  among  sports  been  given  to  the  chase  ? 
Because  its  difficulties,  hardships,  hazards,  tumults,  awaken  the 
mind,  and  give  to  it  a  new  consciousness  of  existence,  and  a  deep 
feeling  of  its  powers.  What  is  the  charm  which  attaches  the 
statesman  to  an  office  which  almost  weighs  him  -down  with  labor, 
and  an  appalling  responsibility  ?  He  finds  much  of  his  compen- 
sation in  the  powerful  emotion  and  interest,  awakened  by  the  very 
hardships  of  his  lot,  by  conflict  with  vigorous  minds,  by  the  op- 
position of  rivals,  and  by  the  alternations  of  success  and  defeat 
What  hurries  to  the  gaming-table  the  man  of  prosperous  fortune 
and  ample  resources  ?  The  dread  of  apathy,  the  love  of  strong 
feeling  and  of  mental  agitation.  We  have  here  one  spring  of  war. 
War  is  of  all  games  the  deepest,  awakening  most  powerfully  the 
8oul,  and  of  course  presenting  powerful  attraction  to  those  restless 
and  adventurous  minds  which  pant  for  scenes  of  greater  •experi- 
ment and  exposure  than  peace  affords.  The  savage,  the  sove- 
reign, the  whole  mass  of  a  community  find  a  pleasure  in  war  as  an 
excitement  of  tlie  mind.  They  follow,  with  an  eager  concern,  the 
movements  of  armies,  and  wait  the  issue  of  battles  with  a  deep 
suspense,  an  alternation  of  hope  and  fear,  inconceivably  more  in- 
teresting than  tlie  unvaried  uniformity  of  peaceful  pursuitsT 

Another  powerful   spring  of  war  is  tlie  passion  for  superiority, 
for  triumph,  for  power.     The  human  mind  is  strongly  marked  by 


4!l|9  A    GLIMPSE    OP    WAR.  # 

this  feature.  It  is  aspiring,  impatient  of  inferiority,  and  eager  c^ 
pre-eminence  and  control.  I  need  not  enlarge  on  the  predomi- 
nance of  this  passion  in  rulers,  whose  love  of  power  is  influenced 
by  the  possession,  and  who  are  ever  restless  to  extend  their  sway. 
It  is  more  important  to  observe  that,  were  this  desire  restrained  to 
the  breasts  of  rulers,  war  Avould  move  with  a  sluggish  pace.  But 
the  passion  for  power  and  superiority  is  universal ;  and  as  every 
individual,  from  liis  intimate  union  with  the  community,  is  accus- 
tomed to  appropriate  its  triumphs  to  himself,  there  is  a  general 
promptness  to  engage  in  any  contest  by  which  the  community  may 
obtain  an  ascendency  over  other  nations. 

Another  powerful  spring  of  war,  is  the  admiration  of  the  brilliant 
qualities  which  it  often  displays.  These  qualities,  more  than  all 
things,  have  prevented  an  impression  of  the  crimes  and  miseries  of 
this  savage  custom.  Many  delight  in  war,  not  for  its  carnage  and  - 
woes,  but  for  its  valor  and  apparent  magnanimity,  for  the  self-com- 
mand of  the  hero,  the  fortitude  which  despises  suffering,  the  reso- 
lution which  courts  danger,  the  superiority  of  the  mind  to  the  body, 
to  sensation,  to  fear.  Men  seldom  delight  in  war  considered 
merely  as  a  source  of  misery.  When  they  hear  of  battles,  the 
picture  which  rises  to  their  view,  is  not  what  it  should  be,  a  picture 
of  extreme  wretchedness,  of  the  wounded,  the  mangled,  the  slain. 
These  horrors  are  hidden  under  the  splendor  of  those  mighty  en- 
ergies which  break  forth  amidst  the  perils  of  conflict,  and  which 
human  nature  contemplates  with  an  intense  and  heart-thrilling  de- 
light. Attention  hurries  from  the  heaps  of  the  slaughtered  to  the 
victorious  chief  whose  single  mind  pervades  and  animates  a  host, 
and  directs  with  stern  composure  the  storm  of  battle ;  and  the  ruin 
which  he  spreads,  is  forgotten  in  admiration  of  his  power.  This 
admiration  has,  in  all  ages,  been  expressed  by  the  most  unequivo- 
cal signs.  Why  tliat  garland  woven,  that  arch  erected,  that  festive 
board  spread  ?  These  are  tributes  to  the  warrior.  Whilst  the 
peaceful  sovereign,  who  scatters  blessings  with  the  silence  and 
constancy  of  Providence,  is  received  wiUi  a  faint  •  applause,  men 
assemble  in  crowds  to  hail  the  conqueror,  perhaps  a  monster  in 
human  form,  whose  private  life  is  blackened  with  lust  and  crime, 
and  whose  greatness  is  built  on  perfidy  and  usurpation.  Thus  war 
is  the  surest  and  speediest  road  to  renown  ;/and  war  will  neyer 
cease,  while  the  field  of  battle  is.  the -field'Of-w4«ryr'-  ^.^ 

Aaoth^^  cause  of  war  is  a  false  patriotism.  It  is  a  natural  and  \ 
a  generous  impulse  of  nature  to  love  the  country  which  gave  us 
birth ;  but  this  sentiment  often  degenerates  into  a  narrow,  partial, 
exclusive  attachment,  alienating  us  from  other  branches  of  the  hu- 
man family,  and  instigating  to  aggression  on  other  states.  In 
ancient  times,  this  principle  was  developed  with  wonderful  energy, 
and  sometimes  absorbed  every  other  sentiment.  To  the  Roman, 
Rome  was  the  universe.  Other  nations  were  of  no  value  but  to 
grace  her  triumphs,  and  illustrate  her  power ;  and  he  who  in  private 
life  would  have  disdained  injustice  and  oppression,  exulted  in  the 
successful  violence  by  which  other  nations  were  bound  to  the 
chariot  wheels  of  this  mistress  of  the  world.     This  spirit  still 


S  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  320 

exists.  The  tie  of. CDimtryja,  UjOUgbtJa  absolve  men  from  the 
obligations  of  universal  justice  and  humanity.  Statesmen  and 
rulers  are  expected  to  build  up  their  own  country  at  the  expense 
of  others;  and  in  the  false  patriotism  of  the  citizen,  they  have  a 
security  for  any  outrages  which  are  sanctioned  by  success. 

Let  me  mention  one  other  spring  of  war — the  impressions  we 
receive  in  early  life.  In  our  early  years,  we  know  war  only  as  it 
offers  itself  to  us  at  a  review  ;  not  arrayed  in  horror,  not  scattering 
wo,  not  stalking  over  fields  of  the  slain,  and  desolated  regions,  its 
eye  flashing  with  fury,  and  its  sword  reeking  with  Jblood.  No ; 
war,  as  we  first  see  it,  is  decked  with  gay  and  splendid  trappings, 
and  wears  a  countenance  of  joy.  It  moves,  with  a  measured  and 
graceful  step,  to  tlie  sound  of  tlie  heart-stirring  fife  and  drum. 
Such  is  war ;  the  youthful  eye  is  dazzled  with  its  ornaments ;  the 
youthful  heart  dances  to  its  animated  sounds.  It  seems  a  pastime 
full  of  spirit  and  activity,  the  very  sport  in  which  youth  delights. 
These  false  views  of  war  are  confirmed  by  our  earliest  reading. 
We  are  intoxicated  with  the  exploits  of  the  conqueror,  as  recorded 
in  real  history,  or  in  glowing  fiction.  We  follow,  with  a  sympa- 
thetic ardor,  his  rapid  and  triumphant  career  in  battle ;  and,  un- 
used as  we  are  to  suffering  and  death,  we  forget  the  fallen  and 
miserable  who  are  crushed  under  his  victorious  car.  Even  where 
these  impressions  in  favor  of  war  are  not  received  in  youth,  we  yet 
learn,  from  our  early  familiarity  with  it,  to  consider  it  as  a  neces- 
sary evil,  an  essential  part  of  our  condition.  We  become  recon- 
ciled to  it  as  to  a  fixed  law  of  our  nature,  and  consider  the  thought 
of  its  abolition  as  extravagant  as  an  attempt  to  chain  the  winds,  or 
arrest  the  lightning. 

But  is  there  no  possibility  of  abolishing  this  custom  ?  Yes,  by 
the  use  of  right  means ;  and  among  these  should  we  place  theoa- 
culcation  of  just  and  elevated  sentiments  relative  to  the  honor  of 
rulers,  and  the  glory  of  nations,  as  not  consisting  in  war.  We 
should  turn  men's  admiration  from  military  courage  to  qualities  of 
real  nobleness  and,dignity.  It  is  time  that  the  childish  admira- 
tion of  courage  should  give  place  to  more  manly  sentiments  ;  and 
in  proportion  as  we  effect  this  change,  we  shall  shake  the  main 
pillar  of  war.  Courage  is  a  very  doubtful  quality.  It  sometimes 
results  from  mental  weakness.  Peril  is  confronted,  because  the 
mind  wants  comprehension  to  discern  its  extent  This  is  often 
the  courage  of  youth,  tlie  courage  of  unreflecting  ignorance,  a  con- 
tempt of  peril  because  peril  is  but  dimly  seen.  Courage  still  more 
frequently  springs  from  physical  temperament,  from  a  rigid  fibre 
and  iron  nerves,  and  deserves  as  little  praise  as  the  proportion 
of  the  form,  or  the  beauty  of  the  countenance.  Every  passion, 
which  is  strong  enough  to  overcome  the  passion  of  fear,  and  to 
exclude  by  its  vehemence  the  idea  of  danger,  communicates  at 
least  a  temporary  courage.  , Thus  revenge,  when  it  burns  with] 
^eat  fury,  gives  a  terrible  energy  to  the  mind,  and  has  sometimes) 
impelled  men  to  meet  certain  death,  that  they  might  inflict  the/ 
same  fate  on  an  enemy.  You  see  the  doubtful  nature  of  couragej 
It  is  often  associatejJLwith  the  worst  vices.     The  most  wonderful 


88iv  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  -  # 

examples  of  it  may  be  found  in  the  history  of  pirates  and  robbers, 
whose  fearlessness  is  generally  proportioned  to  the  insensibility 
of  their  consciences,  and  to  the  enormity  of  their  crimes.  The 
common  courage  of  armies  is  equally  worthless.  A  considerable 
part  of  almost  every  army,  so  far  from  deriving  their  resolution 
from  love  of  country,  and  a  sense  of  justice,  can  hardly  be  said  to 
have  a  country,  and  have  been  driven  into  the  ranks  by  necessities 
which  were  generated  by  vice.  These  are  the  brave  soldiers^ 
whose  praises  we  hear ;  brave  from  the  absence  of  all  reflection ; 
prodigal  of  life,  because  their  vices  have  robbed  life  of  its  bless- 
ings ;  brave  from  sympathy  ;  brave  from  the  thirst  of  plunder ; 
and  especially  brave,  Itjgcause  the  swocjdLpfinart^^^  hanging 

over  their  heads.  iMilitary  courage  is  easily  attained  by  the  most 
debased  ;  and  the  common  drunkard,  enlisted  in  a  fit  of  intoxica- 
tion, becomes  as  brave  as  his  officer,  whose  courage  may  often  be 
traced  to  the  same  dread  of  punishment,  and  to  fear  of  severer  in- 
famy than  attends  on  the  cowardice  of  the  common  soldier.  Let 
us  then  labor  to  direct  the  admiration  and  love  of  mankind  to  an- 
other and  infinitely  higher  kind  of  greatness,  to  that  true  magna- 
nimity which  is  prodigal  of  ease  and  life  in  the  service  of  God  and 
mankind.  Let  the  records  of  past  ages  be  explored,  to  rescue  from 
oblivion,  not  the  wasteful  conqueror,  but  the  benefactors  of  the  hu- 
man race,  martyrs  to  freedom  and  religion,  men  who  have  broken 
the  chain  of  the  slave,  who  have  traversed  the  earth  to  shed  con- 
solation into  the  cell  of  the  prisoner,  or  whose  sublime  faculties 
have  explored  and  revealed  useful  and  ennobling  truths.  Can 
nothing  be  done  to  hasten  the  time,  when  to  such  men  eloquence 
and  poetry  shall  oflfer  their  glowing  homage ;  when  for  these  the 
statue  and  monument  shall  be  erected,  the  canvass  be  animated, 
and  the  laurel  entwined ;  and  when  to  these  the  admiration  of  the 
young  shall  be  directed,  as  their  guides  and  forerunners  to  glory 
and  immortality  ? 

I  proceed  to  another  method  of  promoting  the  cause  of  peace. 
Let  Christian  ministers  exhibit  with  greater  clearness  and  distinct- 
ness, than  ever  they  have  done,  the  pacific  and  benevolent  spirit 
of  Christianity.  My  brethren,  this  spirit  ought  to  hold  the  same 
place  in  our  preaching,  which  it  holds  in  the  gospel  of  our  Lord. 
Instead  of  being  crowded  and  lost  among  other  subjects,  it  should 
stand  in  the  front  of  Christian  graces  ;  it  should  be  inculcated  as 
the  life  and  essence  of  our  religion.  We  should  teach  men,  that 
charity  is  greater  than  faith  and  hope  ;  that  God  is  love  or  be- 
nevolence ;  and  that  love  is  the  brightest  communication  of  di- 
vinity to  the  human  soul.  We  should  exhibit  Jesus  in  all  the 
amiableness  of  his  character,  now  shedding  tears  over  Jerusalem, 
and  now  his  blood  on  Calvary,  and  in  his  last  hours  recommending 
his  own  sublime  love  as  the  badge  and  distinction  of  his  followers. 
We  should  teach  men,  that  it  is  the  property  of  the  benevolence 
of  Christianity  to  diflTuse  itself  like  the  light  and  rain  of  heaven, 
to  disdain  the  limits  of  rivers,  mountains,  or  oceans,  by  which  na- 
tions are  divided,  and  to  embrace  every  human  being  as  a  brother. 
Let  us  never  forget,  that  our  preaching  is  evangelical  just  in  pro- 


10  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  322 

portion  as  it  inculcates  this  disinterested  and  unbounded  charity ; 
and  that  our  hearers  are  Christians  just  as  far,  and  no  farther  than 
they  delight  in  peace  and  beneficence. 

In  our  preaching,  then,  and  in  our  lives,  let  us  bear  perpetual 
lestiniony  to  this  g:reat  characteristic  of  the  gospel.  Were  the 
/true  spirit  of  Christianity  to  be  inculcated  Avitli  but  half  the  zeal 
I  which  has  been  wasted  on  doubtful  and  disputed  doctrines,  a  sym- 
\  patliy,  a  co-operation  might  in  a  very  short  time  be  produced  among 
Christians  of , every  nation,  most  propitious  to  the  pacification  of 
the  world.  In  consequence  of  the  progress  of  knowledge,  and  the 
extension  of  commerce.  Christians  of  both  hemispheres  are  at  this 
moment  brought  nearer  to  one  another  than  at  any  former  period ; 
and  an  intercourse,  founded  on  religious  sympathies,  is  gradually 
connecting  the  most  distant  regions.  Christians  of  difierent 
tongues  are  beginning  to  unite  their  efforts  in  support  of  that 
cause  which,  by  its  sublimity  and  purity,  obscures  and  almost  an- 
nihilates those  perishable  interests  about  which  states  are  divided. 
What  a  powerful  weapon  is  furnished  by  this  new  bond  of  union 
to  the  ministers  and  friends  of  peace !  Should  not  the  auspicious 
moment  be  seized  to  inculcate  on  all  Christians  in  all  regions,  that 
they  owe  their  first  allegiance  to  their  common  Lord  in  heaven, 
whose  first,  and  last,  and  great  command  is  love  ?  Should  they 
not  be  taught  to  look  with  a  shuddering  abhorrence  on  war,  which 
continually  summons  to  tlie  field  of  battle,  under  opposing  stand- 
ards, the  followers  of  the  same  Savior,  and  commands  them  to 
imbrue  their  hands  in  each  other's  blood  ?  Has  not  the  time  ar- 
rived, when  the  dreadful  insensibility  of  Christians  on  this  subject 
may  be  removed ;  when  the  repugnance  of  the  gospel  to  this  in- 
human custom  may  be  carried  with  power  to  every  pious  heart ; 
and  when  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  Prince  of  peace,  may 
be  brought  to  feel,  and  with  one  solemn  voice  to  pronounce,  that 
of  all  men  he  is  most  stained  with  murder,  and  most  obnoxious  to 
the  wrath  of  God,  who,  entrusted  with  power  to  bless,  becomes  the 
scourge,  and  curse,  and  ravager  of  the  creation  ;  scatters  slaugh- 
ter, famine,  devastation  and  bereavement  through  the  earth ;  arms 
man  against  his  brother ;  multiplies  widows  and  fatherless  child- 
ren ;  and  sends  thousands  of  unprepared  souls  to  be  his  accusers 
at  the  judgment  seat  of  God  ?  Once  let  Christians  of  every  nation 
be  brought  to  espouse  the  cause  of  peace  with  one  heart  and  one 
voice,  and  their  labor  will  not  be  iu  vain  in  the  Lord.  The  pre- 
dicted ages  of  peace  will  dawn  on  the  world.  Public  opinion  will 
be  purified.  The  false  lustre  of  the  hero  will  grow  dim ;  a  nobler 
order  of  character  will  be  admired  and  diffused ;  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world  will  gradually  become  the  kingdom  of  God  and  of  his 
Christ. 

I  might  suggest  other  methods ;  but  I  will  only  add,  let  this  subject 
recur  more  frequently  in  our  preaching.  Let  us  exhibit  to  the 
hearts  and  consciences  of  men  the  woes  and  guilt  of  war,  with  all 
the  energy  of  deep  conviction,  and  strong  emotion.  Let  us  labor 
to  associate  images  of  horror  and  infamy  with  this  unchristian 
custom  in  the  minds  of  the  young,  and  awaken  at  once  their  sym- 


i 


323  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  11 

pathy  towards  its  victims,  and  their  indignation  against  its  impos- 
ing and  dazzling  crimes.  The  doctrines  of  Christianity  have  had' 
many  martyrs.  Let  us  be  willing,  if  God  shall  require  it,  to  be 
martyrs  to  its  spirit — the  neglected,  insulted  spirit  of  peace  and 
love.  In  a  better  service  we  cannot  live — in  a  nobler  cause  we 
cannot  die.  It  is  the  cause  of  Jesus  Christ,  supported  by  almighty 
goodness,  and  appointed  to  triumph  over  the  passions  and  de- 
lusions of  men,  the  customs  of  ages,  and  the  fallen  monuments  of 
the  forgotten  conqueror. 


CERTAIN   PLEAS    FOR    WAR   ANSWERED    BY   THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 

(  ] .  War,  it  is  said,  kindles  patriotism.  But  the  patriotism  which 
is  cherished  by  war,  is  ordinarily  false  and  spurious,  a  vice  and 
not  a  virtue,  a  scourge  to  the  world,  a  narrow,  unjust  passion, 
which  aims  to  exalt  a  particular  state  on  the  humiliation  and  de- 
struction of  other  nations.  A  genuine,  enlightened  patriot  discerns, 
that  the  welfare  of  his  own  country  is  involved  in  tiie  general  pro- 
gress of  society  ;  and,  in  the  character  of  a  patriot,  as  well  as  of  a 
Christian,  he  rejoices  in  the  liberty  and  prosperity  of  other  commu- 
nities, and  is  anxious  to  maintain  with  them  the  relations  of  peace 
and  amity. 

2.  It  is  said,  that  a  military  spirit  is  the  defence  of  a  country. 
But  it  more  frequently  endangers  the  vital  interests  of  a  nation  by 
embroiling  it  with  other  states.  This  spirit,  like  every  other  pas- 
sion, is  impatient  for  gratification,  and  often  precipitates  a  country 
into  war. 

3.  War  is  recommended  as  a  method  of  redressing  national 
grievances.  But  unhappily  the  weapons  of  war,  from  their  very 
nature,  are  often  wielded  most  successfully  by  the  unprincipled. 
Justice  and  force  have  little  congeniality.  Should  not  Christians 
strive  to  promote  the  reference  of  national  as  well  as  of  individual 
disputes  to  an  impartial  umpire  ?  Is  a  project  of  this  nature  more 
extravagant  than  the  idea  of  reducing  savage  hordes  to  a  state  of 
regular  society  ?  The  last  has  been  accomplished.  Is  the  first  to 
be  abandoned  in  despair  ? 

4.  It  is  said,  that  war  sweeps  off  the  idle,  dissolute  and  vicious 
members  of  the  community.  MonstrGUS  argument!  If  a  govern- 
ment may  for  this  end  plunge  a  nation  into  war,  it  may  with  equal 
justice  consign  to  the  executioner  any  number  of  its  subjects  whom 
it  may  deem  a  burden  on  the  state.  The  fact  is,  that  war  com- 
monly generates  as  many  profligates  as  it  destroys.  A  disbanded 
army  fills  the  community  with  at  least  as  many  abandoned  mem- 
bers as  at  first  it  absorbed. 

5.  It  is  sometimes  said,  that  a  military  spirit  favors  liberty.  But 
how  is  it,  that  nations,  after  fighting  for  ages,  are  so  generally 
enslaved?  The  truth  is,  that  liberty  has  no  foundation  but  in 
private  and  public  virtue ;  and  virtue,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not  the 
common  growth  of  war. 

6.  But  the  great  argument  is,  that  without  war  to  excite  and 
invigorate  the  human  mind,  some  of  its   noblest  energies  will 


13  A    GLIMPSE    OF    WAR.  324 

slumber,  and  its  highest  qualities, — courage,  magnanimity,  forti- 
tude,— will  perish.  To  this  I  answer,  tliat  if  war  is  to  be  encour- 
aged among  nations,  because  it  nourishes  energy  and  heroism,  on 
the  same  principle,  war  in  our  families  and  between  villages  ought 
to  be  encouraged ;  for  such  contests  would  equally  tend  to  promote 
heroic  daring  and  contempt  of  death.  Why  shall  not  different  pro- 
vinces of  the  same  empire  annually  meet  with  the  weapons  of  death, 
to  keep  alive  their  courage  ?  We  shrink  at  this  suggestion  with 
horror ;  but  why  shall  contests  of  nations,  rather  than  of  provinces 
or  families,  find  shelter  under  this  barbarous  argument?  If  war 
be  a  blessing,  becaus©  it  awakens  energy  and  courage,  then  the 
savage  state  is  peculiarly  privileged ;  for  every  savage  is  a  soldier, 
and  all  his  modes  of  life  tend  to  form  him  to  invincible  resolution. 
On  the  same  principle,  those  early  periods  of  society  were  happy, 
when  men  were  called  to  contend,  not  only  with  one  another,  but 
with  beasts  of  prey  ;  for  to  these  excitements  we  owe  the  heroism 
of  Hercules  and  Theseus.  On  the  same  principle,  the  feudal  ages 
were  more  favored  than  the  present ;  for  then  every  baron  was  a 
military  chief,  every  castle  frowned  defiance,  and  every  vassal 
was  trained  to  arms. 

I  repeat,  then,  we  need  not  war  to  awaken  human  energy. 
There  is  at  least  equal  scope  for  courage  and  magnanimity  in 
blessing  as  in  destroying  mankind.  The  condition  of  the  human 
race  offers  inexhaustible  objects  for  enterprize,  and  fortitude,  and 
magnanimity.  In  relieving  the  countless  wants  and  sorrows  of  the 
world,  in  exploring  unknown  regions,  in  carrying  tlie  arts  and  vir- 
tues of  civilization  to  unimproved  communities,  in  extending  the 
bounds  of  knowledge,  in  diffusing  tne  spirit  of  freedom,  and  espe- 
cially in  spreading  the  light  and  influence  of  Christianity,  how 
much  may  be  dared,  how  much  endured  !  Philanthropy  invites  us 
to  services  which  demand  the  most  intense,  and  elevated,  and 
resolute,  and  adventurous  activity.  Let  it  not  be  imagined,  that 
were  nations  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  they  would 
slumber  in  ignoble  ease  ;  that  instead  of  the  high  minded  mur- 
derers who  are  formed  on  the  present  system  of  war,  we  should 
have  effeminate  and  timid  slaves.  Christian  benevolence  is  as 
active  as  it  is  forbearing.  Let  it  once  form  the  character  of  a 
people,  and  it  will  attach  them  to  every  important  interest  of  so- 
ciety. It  will  call  forth  sympathy  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  in 
every  region  under  heaven.  It  will  give  a  new  extension  to  the 
heart,  open  a  wider  sphere  to  enterprize,  inspire  a  courage  of  ex- 
haustless  resource,  and  prompt  to  every  sacrifice  and  exposure  for 
the  improvement  and  happiness  of  the  human  race.  The  energy 
of  this  principle  has  been  tried  and  displayed  in  the  fortitude  of 
the  martyr,  and  in  the  patient  labors  of  those  who  have  carried  the 
gospel  into  the  dreary  abodes  of  idolatry.  Away  then  with  the 
argument,  that  war  is  needed  as  a  nurservof  heroism.  The  school 
of  the  peaceful  Redeemer  is  infinitely  m'ore  adapted  to  teach  the 
nobler,  as  well  as  the  milder  virtues  which  adorn  humanity. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XXXIX. 

MILITARY   HOSPITALS, 

«       OR 
TREATMENT  OF  THE  SICK,  WOUNDED  AND  PRISONERS  IN  WAR. 


/ 


War  is  a  tissue  of  woes ;  and  its  real  nature,  its  inevitable 
effects,  we  may  see  in  its  treatment  not  only  of  its  victims,  but  of 
its  own  agents  when  disqualified  by  fatigue,  disease  or  wounds  for 
continuing  their  work  of  death  and  devastation. 

It  is  hardly  possible,  during  the  progress  of  a  war,  to  make 
comfortable  provisions  for  the  diseased ;  and  even  in  a  time  of 
peace,  the  condition  of  a  sick  soldier  would  be  regarded  by  most 
persons  as  quite  beyond  endurance.  A  surgeon  perhaps  may  come 
to  his  barrack  with  occasional  prescriptions,  and  a  messmate  ad- 
minister the  medicine ;  but  no  wife,  no  mother,  no  sister  is  there 
to  watch  by  his  rude  hammock,  or  his  pallet  of  straw,  nor  a  well- 
trained,  sympathizing  nurse  to  soothe  his  pains,  and  cheer  his 
drooping,  anguished  spirits. 

But  look  at  the  treatment  of  such  suiferers  in  a  time  of  war. 
*  There  was  nothing,'  says  an  English  soldier  in  Spain,  'to  sus- 
tain our  famished  bodies,  or  to  shelter  us,  when  fatigued  or  sick, 
from  the  rain  and  snow.  The  road  was  one  line  of  bloody  foot- 
marks from  the  sore  feet  of  the  men ;  and  along  its  sides  lay  the 
dead  and  the  dying.  Too  weak  to  drag  the  sick  and  wounded  any 
farther  in  the  wagons,  we  now  left  them  to  perish  in  the  snow. 
Even  Donald,  the  hardy  Highlander,  who  had  long  been  bare- 
footed and  lame  like  myself,  at  length  lay  down  to  die.  For  two 
days  he  had  been  almost  blind,  and  unable,  from  a  severe  cold,  to 
hold  up  his  head.  We  sat  down  together ;  not  a  word  escaped 
our  lips.  We  looked  around,  then  at  each  other,  and  closed  our 
eyes.  We  felt  there  was  no  hope.  We  would  have  given  in 
charge  a  farewell  to  our  friends  ;  but  who  was  to  carry  it  ?  Not 
far  from  us,  there  were,  here  and  there,  above  thirty  in  the  same 
situation  with  ourselves ;  and  nothing  but  groans  mingled  with 
execrations,  was  to  be  heard  between'  the  pauses  of  the  wind.' 

'  I  was  sent,'  says  the  same  sufferer  in  another  place,  *  to  Brae- 
burnlees,  where  I  remained  eight  weeks  very  ill  indeed.  All  the 
time  I  was  in  the  hospital,  my  soul  was  oppressed  with  the  dis- 
tresses of  my  fellow-sufferers,  and  shocked  at  the  conduct  of  the 
hospital  men.  Often  have  I  seen  them  jighting  over  the  expiring 
bodies  of  the  patients,  their  eyes  not  yet  closed  in  death,  for  arti- 
cles of  apparel  that  two  had  seized  at  once ;  mingling  their  curses 
and  oaths  with  the  dying  groans  and  prayers  of  the  poor  sufferers. 
How  dreadful  the  thought  that  my  turn  might  come  next !  There 
was  none  to  comfort,  none  to  give  even  a  drink  of  water  with  a 

p.   T.       NO.   XXXIX. 


2  MILITARY    HOSPITALS. 

pleasant  countenance. — At  length  I  recovered  sufficiently  to  write, 
and  longed  to  tell  my  mother  where  I  was,  that  I  might  hear  from 
her.  I  crawled  along  the  wall  of  the  hospital  towards  the  door  to 
eee  if  I  could  find  one  more  convalescent  than  myself,  to  bring 
me  paper  and  pen ;  I  could  not  truJl  the  hospital  men  with  the 
money.  One  great  inducement  to  this  difficult  exertion,  was  to 
see  the  face  of  heaven,  and  breathe  the  pure  air  once  more.  Fee- 
bly, and  with  anxious  joy,  I  pushed  open  the  door.  Dreadful 
sight !  There  lay  Donald,  my  only,  my  long-tried  friend,  upon  a 
barrow,  to  be  carried  into  the  dead-room,  his  face  uncovered,  and 
part  of  his  body  naked.  The  light  forsook  my  eyes,  I  became 
dreadfully  sick,  and  fell  senseless  upon  the  body  ;  and  after  my 
recovery  from  the  swoon,  my  mind  was  for  some  time  either  va- 
cant or  confused,  and  it  was  long  before  I  could  open  a  door 
without  an  involuntary  shudder.' 

Take  from  the  same  writer  a  specimen  of  the  treatment  that  war 
gives  its  wounded  servants.  '  We  then  marched  off,  leaving  our 
wounded,  whose  cries  were  piercing;  but  we  could  not  help  them. 
Numbers  followed  us,  crawling  on  tlieir  liands  and  knees,  and 
filling  the  air  with  their  groans.  Many  who  could  not  even  crawl 
after  us,  held  out  their  hands,  supplicating  to  be  taken  with  us. 
We  tore  ourselves  from  them,  and  hurried  away ;  for  we  could  not 
bear  the  sight  On  we  struggled  through  a  dark  and  stormy  night, 
carrying  the  wounded  officers  in  blankets  on  our  shoulders ;  but 
such  of  the  wounded  soldiers  as  had  been  able  still  to  keep  up 
with  us,  made  the  heart  bleed  at  their  cries.' 

Nor  is  this  a  solitary  case,  or  one  unusually  severe.  In  the  late 
wars  of  Europe,  multitudes  of  the  sick  were  abandoned  to  their 
fate  in  camps  suddenly  forced  by  the  enemy ;  in  their  rapid 
marches,  vast  numbers,  enfeebled  by  disease,  or  exhausted  with 
fatigue,  sank  down  by  the  road-side  to  perish  witliout  succor  or 
sympathy  ;  and  sometimes  thousands  were  left  on  the  battle-field, 
day  after  day,  amid  the  stench  of  putrefying  carcasses,  without  food 
or  drink,  with  no  shelter  from  the  weather,  and  no  protection 
against  the  voracity  of  ravening  wolves  and  vultures.  During  the 
far-famed  campaign  of  Napoleon  in  Russia,  little  attention  was 
paid  to  the  sick,  the  wounded,  or  those  who  became  from  any 
other  cause  unable  to  take  care  of  themselves.  The  eighty  thou- 
sand victims  on  the  fatal  field  of  Borodino,  were  for  the  most  part 
left  where  they  fell ;  and  Labaume,  glancing  at  tliat  scene  on  his 
return  with  the  French  from  Moscow,  says,  "  the  carcasses  of  men 
and  horses  still  covered  the  plain,  intermingled  with  garments 
stained  with  blood,  and  bones  gnawed  by  the  dogs,  and  birds  of 
prey."  While  marching  over  the  field  of  battle,  they  found  one 
poor  fellow  stretched  upon  the  ground,  with  both  his  legs  broken, 
yet  still  alive  !  Wounded  on  the  day  of  the  great  battle,  he  had 
remained  in  that  condition  nearly  two  months,  living  on  bits  of 
bread  found  among  the  dead  bodies,  on  grass  and  roots,  lying  by 
night  in  the  carcasses  of  dead  horses,  and  dressing  his  wounds 
with  their  flesh  ! 


327  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  »  % 

Let  us  now  quote  a  case  less  startling,  but  more  common,  and 
sufficiently  painful.  '  I  was  taken  ill,'  says  a  British  officer,  '  in 
the  beginning  of  August,  1813,  but  continued  with  the  regiment, 
in  the  hope  of  getting  better,  until  we  arrived  near  Madrid.  I 
was  Uien  very  ill,  and  had  become  so  weak,  that  I  frequently 
fainted  when  endeavoring  to  mount  my  horse.  The  surgeon  at 
last  ordered  me  into  the  rear ;  and  with  much  difficulty  I  reached 
Salamanca  in  a  cart,  almost  breathing  my  last.  Here  I  lay,  and 
grew  worse,  till  I  was  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton,  and  had  been 
given  over  more  than  once,  when  our  army  arrived  with  the  French 
at  their  heels,  and  every  preparation  was  made  to  evacuate  Sala- 
manca, and  remove  the  sick  further  to  the  rear.  Unfortunately  I 
was  too  ill  to  be  removed,  and  my  surgeon  recommended  me  by 
all  means  to  make  up  my  mind  to  be  taken  prisoner ;  for,  said  he, 
you  have  no  other  alternative  but  to  be  taken  by  the  enemy,  or 
run  the  risk  of  losing  your  life  by  being  removed  ;  adding  coolly, 
that  I  should  surely  die  before  they  could  get  me  over  the  bridge 
on  the  outside  of  the  town.  I  might  have  died  inside  the  town  for 
him,  as  I  saw  him  no  more.  The  cannonading  had  already  com- 
menced ;  the  French  cavalry  had  forded  the  river,  and  got  round 
our  flanks ;  and  I,  the  only  officer  in  the  place,  was  left  to  get 
away  as  I  could. 

'  I  now  thought  it  time  to  take  the  miserable  alternative  proposed 
by  the  surgeon  ;  for  the  place  was  already  given  up  to  plunder. 
Unable  to  stir,  I  was  lying  in  the  most  dreadful  state  of  suspense, 
expecting  every  moment  to  see  a  Frenchman  pounce  in  upon  me, 
when  an  officer  of  my  own  regiment,  to  my  great  surprise,  rushed 
into  my  room,  determined  to  rescue  me.  He  hurried  me  away, 
wrapped  in  a  blanket,  upon  the  back  of  a  rifleman,  and  got  me 
put  into  a  cart,  and  conveyed  over  the  bridge.  On  we  travelled 
through  the  night,  the  army  in  full  retreat,  and  the  French  in  close 
pursuit,  the  weather  miserably  wet  and  cold,  and  the  roads  so 
drenched  that  it  was  up  to  the  middle  in  mud.  The  eflTort,  how- 
ever, was  fruitless  to  me  ;  for  the  animals  were  killed,  and  I  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  who  knocked  the  cart  from  under  me, 
sabred  the  men,  and  dragged  me  into  the  middle  of  the  road, 
stripped  me  of  my  clothes,  which  they  tore  into  shreds,  and,  turn- 
ing me  over  with  their  sabres,  plundered  me  of  what  little  I  had 
left,  tearing  a  gold  ring  from  my  finger,  and  leaving  me  naked  to 
perish  with  cold  and  hunger. 

'  In  this  miserable  state  I  lay  two  days  and  nighte,  with  no 
mortal  near  me  except  the  dead,  one  of  whom  lay  with  his  head 
upon  my  legs,  having  died  in  that  position  during  the  night,  and  I 
was  too  weak  to  remove  his  body,  or  even  to  raise  myself  up. 
Still  I  continued  to  exist,  which  I  attribute  to  some  rum  which  a 
humane  Frenchman  allowed  me  to  drink  from  his  canteen.  The 
whole  of  the  next  day,  I  saw  no  living  soul ;  and  there  I  still  lay 
on  the  road  half-famished.  The  day  following,  an  escort  of  French 
dragoons  came  up  with  some  prisoners,  among  whom  was  a  sol- 
dier of  my  own  company.    He  recognized  me,  and  so  earnestly 


4  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  328- 

begged  the  Frenchmen  to  let  him  and  three  others  remove  me  to 
a  village  three  or  four  leagues  distant,  that  they  finally  consented. 
Wrapt  in  a  blanket,  I  was  conveyed  on  their  shoulders  almost  in  a 
state  of  insensibility,  except  when  roused  by  tlie  inhumanity  of  the 
three  soldiers,  who  several  times  tumbled  me  into  the  mud  in  the 
most  unfeeling  manner,  swearing  I  was  dead,  and  they  would 
carry  me  no  tjajther ;  but,  my  rifle  comrade  threatening  them  if 
they  dared  to  leave  me,  they  carried  me  to  a  village  which  had 
been  plundered  by  the  troops,  and  deserted  by  the  inhabitants. 
Starvation  now  stared  me  in  the  face ;  for  the  escort,  having  laid 
me  inside  a  hut,  proceeded  with  their  prisoners  to  Salamanca, 
whither  I  begged  in  vain  they  would  take  me  to  save  me  from 
dying  with  hunger.  They  refused  to  let  any  of  their  prisoners 
stay  with  me,  or  even  carry  me  farther,  as  I  was  a  mere  skeleton ; 
and  they  left  me  in  this  deserted  village,  destitute  of  both  food 
and  covering. 

'  Still  I  survived ;  but  my  sufferings  from  hunger  were  inde- 
scribable, having  onJy  a  pittance  of  horse-flesh  and  acorns  to  sub- 
sist on  for  nearly  a  month  in  the  depth  of  winter ;  and  during  all 
this  time,  I  lay  in  an  old,  half-unroofed  bam,  to  which  the  Span- 
iards, on  their  return  to  the  village,  had  carried  me,  witliout  giving 
me  a  morsel  of  food,  but  telling  me  I  might  lie  there  and  die.  So 
I  certainly  should,  had  I  not  been  found  by  an  English  soldier  who 
had  escaped  from  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  accidentally  took 
shelter  in  my  quarters.  The  poor  fellow  found  me  in  a  state  of 
starvation,  and,  taking  me  on  his  back  to  the  village,  craved  food 
for  me  from  door  to  door ;  but  the  inhuman  Spaniards  shut  their 
doors  in  our  face,  and  refused  me  both  shelter  and  food.  However, 
my  fellow-sufferer  found  a  dead  horse,  and  supplied  me  with  that 
food  and  acorns,  which  I  then  thought  very  dainty,  and  devoured 
them  with  greediness.' 

We  will  now  turn  the  tables  by  showing  how  French  prisoners 
in  Spain  were  treated  by  their  captors.  '  On  our  road  to  Cordova,* 
says  one  of  these  victims,  '  we  met  some  of  our  comrades  who  had 
just  been  taken  prisoners  by  the  Spaniards.  What  a  sight !  Their 
eyes  were  put  out,  their  tongues  cut  off,  their  fingers  split  up,  and 
sundry  parts  of  their  bodies  stabbed ! — We  took  Sie  city,  but  were 
afterwards  obliged  to  capitulate  ;  and  no  sooner  had  we  grounded 
our  arms,  than  the  Spaniards  broke  in  upon  us,  and  murdered  our 
defenceless  people  in  cold  blood.  The  victims  of  this  treachery 
met  death  under  every  variety  of  torture ;  some  were  pierced  with 
numberless  stabs,  and  others  taken  and  burnt  alive  ;  in  short,  all 
the  horrors  of  Cordova  were  revived,  and  put  in  execution  against 
us. 

'  Nor  was  the  fate  of  the  survivors  much  preferable  ;  for  famine 
soon  stared  us  in  the  face,  and  we  tliought  starvation  inevitable. 
The  pangs  of  hunger  so  overcame  even  the  horror  of  our  brutal 
oppressors,  that  we  implored  them  in  piteous  accents  to  give  us 
food.  Our  petitions  only  awakened  Uieir  derision;  and,  when 
several  men  fell  down  from  mere  exhaustion,  they  were  instantly 


329  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  9 

despatched  by  a  dreadful  blow  from  the  butt-end  of  a  musket. 
When  we  reached  Cordova  again,  the  infuriated  populace  rushed 
like  tigers  upon  us,  plucked  individuals  here  and  there  from  the 
ranks,  and  literally  cut  them  to  pieces,  and  then  gazed  with  savage 
exultation  on  their  convulsive,  agonizing  throes ! 

'  We  were  next  marched  toward  the  coast ;  but  our  numbers 
thinned  rapidly.  Fatigue  and  insufficient  provision  rendered 
many  incapable  of  renewing  their  march  after  a  night's  halt ;  and 
dawn  exhibited  to  us  the  stiffened  limbs  of  such  as  death  had 
released  from  their  sufferings.  The  survivors  were  gaunt  and 
emaciated  ;  and  frequently  would  a  poor  fellow  drop  down  in  the 
extremity  of  weariness  and  despair.  No  effort  was  made  to  relieve 
these  sufferers;  but  they  were  either  left  behind  to  perish,  or 
bayonetted  on  the  spot. 

'  At  length  we  arrived  at  St.  Lucar,  and  were  thrown,  some  of 
us  into  prison-ships,  and  others  into  stinking  casements.  The 
extremity  of  our  anguish  now  exceeded  all  powers  of  descrip- 
tion. With  scarce  strength  to  crawl  to  our  detestable  dungeons, 
many  reached  them  only  to  lie  down,  and  die  broken-hearted. 
Unwholesome  and  distasteful  bread,  about  four  ounces  of  horse- 
beans,  and  a  little  rancid  oil,  formed  the  materials  of  our  wretched 
fare, — so  wretched  as  to  be  refused  in  many  cases  by  men  fainting 
with  weariness  and  famished  with  hunger. 

'  From  St  Lucar  we  were  sent  to  Cadiz,  some  on  foot,  and  oth-  • 
ers  by  Avater.  I  was  among  the  latter ;  and,  as  soon  as  we  had 
got  on  board  the  vessels,  we  were  counted  like  so  many  cattle 
driven  into  their  stables.  Each  place  of  rest  was  made  to  contain 
six  men  ;  and,  when  once  laid  upon  our  backs,  we  had  no  room  to 
change  our  position  right  or  left,  and  the  pestilential  effluvia, 
arising  from  so  many  bodies  thus  huddled  together,  was  extremely 
offensive,  and  rendered  the  atmosphere  of  the  ship  quite  putrid. 
Vermin  were  generated  by  thousands ;  and  such  was  the  climeix 
of  ray  wretchedness  and  disgust,  that  I  earnestly  implored  the 
intervention  of  the  destroying  angel ;  and  a  great  many  of  my 
companions,  harassed  by  the  unrelenting  severity  of  our  masters, 
sought  refuge  from  their  misery  by  plunging  into  the  sea. 

*  Nor  did  our  changes  stop  here.  From  Cadiz  we  were  sent  to 
Majorca,  and  thence  to  the  desolate  island  of  Cabrera,  where  we 
were  reduced  for  a  time  to  the  necessity  of  feeding  on  grass,  and 
even  on  the  dust  of  the  earth.  A  great  many  died ;  and  we  imme- 
diately buried  them  in  the  sea,  under  the  horrible  apprehension, 
that  the  presence  of  their  bodies  would  rouse  within  us  the  savage 
longings  of  the  cannibal.  A  cuirassier  was  actually  killed  for  thia 
purpose  by  a  Pole,  who  confessed  he  had  done  the  same  to  two 
others  of  his  comrades.' 

No  kindness  or  skill  can  avert  suffering  from  the  victims  of 
war.  '  For  ten  days  afler  the  sea-fight  of  Trafalgar,  men  were 
employed  in  bringing  the  wounded  ashore  ;  and  spectacles  were 
hourly  exhibited  at  the  wharves,  and  through  the  streets,  sufficient 
to  shock  every  heart  not  yet  hardened  to  scenes  of  blood  and 


0  *  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  830 

human  suffering.  When  by  the  carelessness  of  the  boatmen,  or 
the  surging  of  the  sea,  the  boats  struck  against  the  stone  piers,  a 
horrid  cry,°piercing  tlie  very  soul,  arose  from  the  mangled  wretches 
on  board.  Nor  was  the  scene  less  affecting  on  the  tops  of  the 
pier,  where  the  wounded  were  being  carried  away  to  the  hospitals 
in  every  shape  of  misery,  whilst  crowds  of  Spaniards  either  as- 
sisted, or  looked  on  witli  signs  of  horror.  Meanwhile  their  com- 
panions who  had  escaped  unhurt,  walked  up  and  down  with  folded 
arms  and  down-cast  eyes,  whilst  women  sat  on  heaps  of  arms, 
broken  furniture  and  baggage,  with  their  heads  bent  between  their 
knees.  I  had  no  inclination  to  follow  the  litters  of  the  wounded ; ' 
yet  I  learned  that  every  hospital  in  Cadiz  was  already  full,  and  the 
convents  and  churches  were  appropriated  to  the  remainder.' 

Sir  Charles  Bell,  the  eminent  surgeon  who  was  present  in  the 
hospitals  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  says  '  the  wounded  French 
continued  to  be  brought  in  for  several  days ;  and  the  British  sol- 
diers who  had  in  the  morning  been  moved  by  the  piteous  cries  of 
those  they  carried,  I  saw  in  the  evening  so  hardened  by  the  repe- 
tition of  the  scene,  and  by  fatigue,  as  to  become  indifferent  to  the 
sufferings  they  occasioned. 

*  It  was  now  the  thirteenth  day  after  the  battle.  It  is  impossible 
to  conceive  the  sufferings  of  men  rudely  carried  at  such  a  period, 
of  their  wounds.  When  I  first  entered  the  hospital,  these  French- 
men had  been  roused  and  excited  in  a  degree  quite  extraordinary ; 
and  in  the  glance  of  their  eyes  there  was  a  character  of  fierceness 
which  I  never  expected  to  witness  in  the  human  countenance.  On 
the  second  day,  the  temporary  excitement  had  subsided ;  ^d,  turn 
which  way  I  might,  I  encountered  every  form  of  entreaty  from 
those  whose  condition  left  no  need  of  words  to  stir  compassion. 
"  Surgeon  Major,  oh,  how  I  suffer !  Dress  my  wounds — do  dress 
my  wounds  ! — Doctor,  cut  off  my  leg  !  Oh  !  I  suffer  too  much ! " 
And  when  these  entreaties  were  unavailing,  you  might  hear  in  a 
weak,  inward  voice  of  despair,  "  I  shall  die — I  am  a  dead  man ! "  ' 

The  following  sketch  from  a  British  officer  in  Portugal  will 
help  us  still  further  to  conceive  the  horrors  of  a  hospital.  '  I 
entered  the  town  of  Mirando  Cervo  about  dusk.  It  had  been  a 
black,  grim,  gloomy  sort  of  day.  Huge  masses  of  clouds  lay 
motionless  on  the  sky ;  and  then  they  would  break  up  suddenly 
as  with  a  whirlwind,  and  roll  off  in  the  red  and  bloody  distance. 

1  felt  myself  in  a  strange  sort  of  excitement ;  my  imagination  got 
the  better  of  all  my  other  faculties ;  and,  while  walking  out  in  the 
principal  street,  I  met  a  woman,  an  old  haggard-looking  wretch, 
who  had  in  her  hollow  eyes  an  unaccountable  expression  of  cruelty, 
a  glance  like  that  of  madness  ;  but  her  deportment  was  quiet  and 
rational,  and,  though  clad  in  squallidness,  she  was  evidently  of 
the  middle  rank  in  society.  Without  being  questioned,  slie  told 
me  in  broken  English,  I  should  find  comfortable  accommodations 
in  an  old  convent  at  some  distance  in  a  grove  of  cork-trees,  point- 
ing to  them  witli  her  long,  shrivelled  hand  and  arm,  and  giving 
a  sort  of  hysterical  laugh. 


331  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  % 

*  I  followed  her  advice,  anticipating-  no  danger  or  adventure  ; 
yet  the  wild  eyes,  and  the  still  wilder  voice  of  the  old  crone  so 
powerfully  affected  me,  that  I  walked,  in  a  sort  of  muse,  up  a 
pretty  long  flight  of  steps,  and  found  myself  standing  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  cloisters  of  the  convent  A  strange  sight  now  burst 
upon  my  view !  Before  me  lay  and  sat  more  than  a  hundred  dead 
bodies,  all  of  them  apparently  in  the  very  attitude  or  posture  in 
which  they  had  died.  I  gazed  at  them  a  minute  or  more  before 
I  knew  that  they  were  all  corpses ;  and  a  desperate  courage  then 
enabled  me  to  look  steadfastly  at  the  scene  before  me.  The 
bodies  were  mostly  clothed  in  mats,  and  rags,  and  tattered  great 
coats ;  some  of  them  were  merely  wrapt  round  about  with  girdles 
composed  of  straw ;  and  two  or  three  were  perfectly  naked. 
Every  face  had  a  different  expression,  but  all  painful,  horrid, 
agonized,  bloodless.  Many  glazed  eyes  were  wide  open ;  and 
perhaps  this  was  the  most  shocking  thing  in  the  whole  spectacle — ■ 
so  many  eyes  that  saw  not,  all  seemingly  fixed  upon  different 
objects ;  some  cast  up  to  heaven,  some  looking  straight  forward, 
and  others  with  the  white  orbs  turned  round,  and  deep  sunk  in 
their  sockets.  It  was  a  sort  of  hospital ;  and  these  wretched  be- 
ings, nearly  all  desperately  wounded,  had  been  stripped  by  their 
comrades,  and  left  there  either  dead,  or  to  die. 

'  This  ghastly  sight  I  had  begim  to  view  with  some  composure, 
when  I  saw,  at  the  remotest  part  of  the  hospital,  a  gigantic  figure 
sitting,  all  covered  with  blood,  and  almost  naked,  upon  a  rude 
bedstead,  with  his  back  leaning  against  the  wall,  and  his  eyes 
fixed  directly  on  mine.  I  first  thought  him  alive,  and  shuddered ; 
but  he  was  stone  dead !  In  his  last  agonies  he  had  bitten  his 
under  lip  almost  entirely  off,  and  his  long  black  beard  was  drench- 
ed in  clotted  gore,  that  likewise  lay  in  large  blots  upon  his  shaggy 
bosom.  One  of  his  hands  had  convulsively  grasped  the  wood- 
work of  the  bedstead,  and  crushed  it  in  the  grasp.  I  recognized 
the  corpse.  He  w^  a  sergeant  in  a  grenadier  regiment,  and  had, 
during  the  retreat,  been  distinguished  for  acts  of  savage  valor. 
One  day  he  killed  with  his  own  hand  Harry  Warburton,  the  right- 
hand  man  of  my  own  company,  perhaps  the  most  powerful  man  in 
the  British  army.  There  sat  the  giant  frozen  to  death.  I  went 
up  to  him,  and,  raising  his  brawny  arm,  it  fell  down  again  with  a 
hollow  sound  against  the  bloody  side  of  the  corpse. 

'  My  eyes  unconsciously  wandered  along  the  walls.  They  -were 
covered  with  grotesque  figures  and  caricatures  of  the  English, 
absolutely  drawn  in  blood !  Horrid  blasphemies,  and  the  most 
shocking  obscenities  in  the  shape  of  songs,  were  in  like  manner 
written  there.  I  observed  two  books  lying  on  the  floor,  and  picked 
them  up.  One  was  full  of  the  most  hideous  obscenity  ;  the  other 
was  the  Bible  !  It  is  impossible  to  tell  the  horror  produced  in  me 
by  this  circumstance.  The  books  dropt  from  my  hand,  and  fell 
on  the  breast  of  one  of  the  bodies — it  was  a  woman's  breast !  Yes, 
a  woman  had  lived  and  died  in  such  a  place  as  this  !  What  had 
been  in  that  now  still,  death-cold  heart,  perhaps  only  a  few  hours 


8  MILITARY    HOSPITALS.  332 

before,  I  knew  not — possibly  love  strong  as  death  ;  love,  guilty, 
abandoned,  linked  by  vice  unto  misery,  but  still  love  that  perished 
only  with  the  last  throb,  and  yearned  in  its  last  convulsion  towards 
some  one  of  these  grim  dead  bodies. 

*  Near  this  corpse  lay  that  of  a  perfect  boy  not  more  than  seven- 
teen years  of  age.  Round  his  neck  was  suspended,  by  a  chain 
of  hair,  a  little  copper  figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  in  his  hand 
was  a  letter  in  French.  I  glanced  at  it,  and  read  enough  to  know 
it  was  from  a  mother — My  dear  Son,  &c.  It  was  a  terrible  place 
to  think  of  mother — of  home — of  any  social,  any  human  ties. 
What !  have  these  ghastly  things  parents,  brothers,  sisters,  lovers  ? 
Were  they  once  all  happy  in  peaceful  homes  ?  Did  these  con- 
vulsed, bloody,  mangled  bodies  ever  lie  in  undisturbed  beds  ?  Did 
these  clutched  hands  once  press  in  infancy  a  mother's  breast  ? 
Now,  alas,  how  loathsome,  terrible,  ghostlike !  Will  such  crea- 
tures, thought  I,  ever  live  again  :  Robbers,  ravishers,  incendia- 
ries, murderers,  suicides — a  dragoon  there  had  obviously  blown 
out  his  own  brains — here  is  a  very  pandemonium  of  guilt  and 
horror ! ' 

Such  are  the  illustrations  of  war  in  the  heart  of  Christendom 
itself  at  tlie  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century  !  Are  they  like  the 
gospel — like  its  spirit,  its  principles,  its  promised  results  ?  Are 
such  woes,  such  atrocities  and  horrors  necessary,  inevitable  ? 
Must  they  continue  even  in  Christendom  forever  ?  Need  they 
ever  be  repeated  again  under  the  blessed  light  of  revelation  ?  Is 
there  not  power  in  the  gospel,  God's  own  panacea  for  all  human 
ills,  to  prevent  it  ?  Most  certainly  ;  and  all  we  need  is  a  right 
application  of  Us  pacifc  principles.  Here  is  a  sovereign  remedy 
for  war  ;  but,  like  every  other  remedy,  it  must  be  applied  before  it 
can  cure,  and  it  is  tlie  business  of  Christians  to  apply  it  wherever 
the  evil  is  found.  Who  else  will  make  tlie  application  ?  Has  not 
the  Prince  of  Peace  devolved  this  duty  upon  them  as  peculiarly, 
emphatically  their  own  ?  Will  they  not  then  array  themselves  as 
one  man  against  a  sin  so  foul,  a  scourge  so  terrible  ?  Are  you 
willing  that  such  evils  should  ever  befall  your  country,  and  your 
own  father  or  brotliers,  your  own  husband  or  sons,  should  be 
doomed  to  similar  cruelties  and  sufferings  ?  If  not,  gird  yourself 
in  earnest  for  the  work  of  putting  an  end  to  war  first  in  Christen- 
dom, and  finally  through  the  world.  Means  are  just  as  indispen- 
sable in  this  cause  as  m  any  other ;  but,  if  used  aright,  the  God 
of  Peace  is  pledged  to  crown  them  in  due  time  with  complete 
success. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XL. 

SAFETY  OF  PACIFIC   PRINCIPLES.  ' 


There  are  two  ways  to  keep  men  from  injuring  us — by  com- 
pulsion, or  persuasion  ;  by  brute  force,  or  kind  moral  influence ; 
by  appeals  to  their  fears  alone,  or  addresses  to  their  conscience 
and  better  feelings.  We  may  resort  to  the  law  of  violence,  or  the 
law  of  love  ;  we  may  rely  on  the  principle  of  war,  or  the  principle 
of  peace.  One  threatens,  the  other  persuades ;  one  hates  and 
curses,  the  other  loves  and  blesses  ;  the  former  gives  back  insult 
and  injury  with  interest,  while  the  latter  meekly  turns  the  other 
cheek  to  the  smiter,  forgives  even  its  bitterest  enemies,  and  strives 
to  overcome  evil  only  with  good. 

No  man,  at  all  acquainted  with  the  gospel,  needs  to  be  told 
which  of  these  methods  is  most  accordant  with  its  principles.  The 
bare  statement  must  suffice  for  any  one  who  has  read  either  the 
New  Testament  or  the  Old  ;  who  has  traced  the  example  of  Christ 
and  his  Apostles,  or  caught  from  their  lips  such  instructions  as 
these, — lay  aside  all  malice  ;  do  good  unto  all  men  ;  love  your  ene- 
mies, bless  them  that  curse  you,  and  do  good  to  them  that  despite- 
fully  use  you  ;  resist  not  evil,  but  whoso  smiteth  you  on  one  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  also  ;  recompense  to  no  man  evil  for  evil,  but 
overcome  evil  with  good. 

Here  is  the  Christian  mode  of  preventing  or  curing  evils  ;  but 
most  persons  deem  it  unsafe,  and  resort  to  some  form  of  violence. 
They  have  little  confidence  in  the  power  of  reason  or  truth,  of  jus- 
tice or  kindness,  to  hold  in  check  the  bad  passions  of  mankind  ; 
but  employ  for  this  purpose  threats  of  evil,  and  engines  of  ven- 
geance and  death.  Fear  they  seem  to  regard  as  the  only  effec- 
tual restraint  upon  mischief  or  guilt ;  and  hence  they  arm  them- 
selves with  pistols  and  daggers  against  their  personal  foes,  and 
think  it  madness  for  nations  to  rely  for  protection,  one  against 
another,  on  any  thing  but  fleets  and  armies,  a  soldiery  well  trained, 
and  fortifications  well  manned.  Milder  means,  appeals  to  the  bet- 
ter feelings  of  our  nature,  they  would  not  entirely  discard ;  but 
the  former  they  make  their  last  resort,  their  sole  reliance,  and 
honestly  believe  that  war  is  the  only  sujre  way  to  peace  ;  that 
there  is  no  real  security  but  in  bloodshed ;  that  we  must  either 
fight,  or  become  the  prey  of  malice  or  ambition,  of  rapacity  or  re- 
venge. Nor  can  we  deny  that  the  history  of  our  world,  written 
mainly  in  blood,  and  detailing  a  series  of  almost  incessant  jealous- 
ies and  conflicts  between  nations,  would  seem  to  justify  such  an 
opinion  ;  and  yet  we  verily  believe  that  pacific  principles  are  the 
surest  safeguard,  and  would,  if  rightly  used,  suflftce,  far  better  than 
any  war-methods,  to  avert  or  mitio^ate  the  evils  incident  from  bad 
passions  to  individual  or  national  intercourse, 

p.  T.       NO.   XL. 


2  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  334 

Let  us  first  ascertain  the  precise  point  in  dispute.  The  question 
is  not  whether  tJie  principles  of  peace,  any  measures  of  forbear- 
ance, kindness  and  conciliation  will,  in  every  case,  avert  all  eviL 
Tlie  depravity  of  mankind  forbids  the  hope.  It  is  morally  im- 
possible ;  and  no  means  devised  by  tlie  policy  of  man,  or  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  have  hitherto  succeeded  in  securing  such  a  result 
The  war-principle  has  been  tried  all  over  tlie  earth  lor  nearly  six 
thousand  years ;  but  has  it  kept  man  from  preying  upon  his 
brother,  or  nation  from  rising-  against  nation  ?  Has  it  prevented 
bloodshed,  violence,  rapine,  injustice,  oppression,  despotism,  the 
countless  wrongs  and  evils  that  form  nearly  the  sum  total  of  his- 
tory ?  Surely  then  war  is  no  security  against  tlie  bad  passions  of 
men ;  it  would  seem  hardly  possible  for  any  system  to  produce 
xcorse  results ;  and  hence  we  are  forced  to  the  inquiry,  as  the  only 
point  at  issue,  whether  a  policy  strictly  pacific  Avill  prevent  more 
evil,  and  secure  more  good,  than  war-methods  actually  have. 

The  advocates  of  war  seem  even  now  to  concede  the  very  point 
in  debate  ;  for  they  all  admit,  that  we  ought  to  use  pacific  expedi- 
ents as  long  as  we  can,  and  to  draw  the  sword  only  as  a  last  and 
inevitable  resort  This  admission  recognizes  the  superiority  of 
pacific  over  warlike  measures  ;  and  we  should,  if  consistent,  aban- 
don the  latter,  and  adopt  the  former  as  our  uniform  and  permanent 
policy. 

History  too,  though  extremely  barren  of  examples  to  illustrate 
the  eflScacy  of  pacific  principles,  does  nevertheless  furnish  some 
strong  presumptions  in  their  favor.  War,  as  an  engine  of  mere 
force  and  vengeance,  belongs  to  a  state  entirely  savage ;  and 
communities,  like  individuals,  abandon  or  relax  the  war-principle 
just  as  fast  as  they  rise  in  the  scale  of  general  cultivation,  and 
come  under  the  sway  of  moral  influences.  Nations,  even  while 
retaining  the  war-system  in  tlie  back-ground  as  their  ultimate  reli- 
ance, have  already  reached  the  wisdom  of  employing  for  the  most 
part  pacific  expedients  for  the  prevention  or  adjustment  of  difficul- 
ties with  each  other.  They  retain  the  sword,  but  keep  it  in  the 
scabbard,  and  are  fast  superceding  its  use  by  the  substitution  of 
pacific  methods.  They  continue  the  war-system  either  by  the  force 
of  habit,  or  as  a  sort  of  scare-crow  ;  it  looms  up  before  tlie  world 
very  like  an  old,  useless  hulk  afloat  on  the  ocean  as  a  memento 
of  the  past,  and  a  warning  to  the  future ;  while  they  sedulously 
use  in  its  stead  the  policy  of  peace  in  more  than  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  and  thus  bear  an  unconscious  but  decisive  testimony  to  the 
vast  superiority  of  the  former. 

We  can  find  in  history  no  considerable  nation  acting  on  the 
strictest  principles  of  peace  ;  but  those  which  approach  the  near- 
est to  these  principles,  uniformly  enjoy  the  highest  degree  of 
safety  and  prosperity.  Take  China,  Switzerland,  or  the  United 
States ;  and  you  will  see  in  their  case  a  striking  confirmation  of 
this  trutli,  and  a  strong  presumptive  argument  for  the  strictest  prin- 
ciples of  peace.  None  of  them  have  given  up  the  system  of 
armed  self-defence ;  but  they  have  for  the  most  part  adopted  ». 


335  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  3 

policy  unusually  pacific.  They  have  professedly  acted  only  on' 
the  defensive ;  they  have  betrayed  few,  if  any  wishes  for  aggres- 
sion or  conquest ;  they  have  kept  up  no  fleets  or  armies  suificient 
to  intimidate  or  provoke  their  neighbors  ;  they  have  been  respect- 
ful, courteous  and  conciliatory  in  their  intercourse  with  other  na- 
tions, and  relied  mainly  on  their  own  character,  and  the  force  of 
reason  and  justice,  for  the  vindication  of  their  rights,  and  the  re- 
dress of  their  wrongs.  What  is  the  result  ?  No  nations  on  earth 
have  ever  been  so  exempt  from  aggression,  injury  and  insult ;  and, 
if  the  partial  adoption  of  our  principles  has  been  so  successful, 
would  not  their  full  application  be  still  more  so  ? 

Let  us  dwell  a  little  on  cases  like  these.  Rome,  whil^  under 
her  warlike  kings,  kept  a  great  part  of  Italy  in  arms  against  her  ; 
but  Numa,  changing  this  policy,  turned  his  people  from  the  pur- 
suits of  war  to  the  arts  of  peace,  quelled  the  dissensions  among 
themselves,  and  cultivated  a  friendly  intercourse  with  the  nations 
around  them.  Their  neighbors,  astonished  at  the  change,  threw 
aside  their  arms,  hailed  the  Romans  as  friends,  and  lived  in  peace 
with  them  so  long  as  they  continued  this  new  policy. — So  of  the 
Chinese.  Disinclined  to  war,  and  nearly  destitute  of  military  re- 
sources, still  what  nation  has  suffered  fewer  invasions  of  its  soil 
or  its  rights  ? — Look  at  Switzerland.  For  more  than  five  centu- 
ries has  she,  with  very  few  and  brief  exceptions,  been  at  peace 
with  her  neighbors.  While  the  flames  of  war  have  raged  all 
around  her,  she  has  remained  quiet  upon  her  mountains,  tilled  her 
rugged  soil,  and  reaped  the  fruits  of  her  industry  and  pacific  pol- 
icy in  the  enjoyment  of  health,  competence  and  domestic  happi- 
ness. Nor  is  this  owing  to  her  Alpine  position,  to  the  bravery 
of  her  sons,  or  the  peculiar  form  of  her  government ;  for  there  is 
nothing  in  all  these  to  shield  her  against  the  assaults  of  any  power 
disposed  to  invade  her  territory.  It  would  have  been  very  easy 
for  neighboring  states  to  conquer  Switzerland ;  and  yet  she  re- 
mains unmolested,  a  republic  free  and  flourishing  in  the  midst  of 
surrounding  despotisms.  Why  ?  Not  because  she  has  any  for- 
midable power,  but  because  she  pursues  a  pacific  policy.  She 
betrays  no  ambition  to  enlarge  her  territory,  seeks  only  security 
within  her  own  limits,  and  is  scrupulously  upright,  Iionorable  and 
conciliatory  in  her  intercourse  with  other  nations.  She  aims  to 
give  no  just  ground  for  offence  ;  and,  when  complaints  arise,  she 
holds  herself  ready  to  meet  every  fair  and  equitable  claim  for  re- 
dress. Her  policy  and  her  character  are  the  bulwarks  of  her 
defence,  almost  the  only  pledges  of  her  safety. — Here,  too,  is  the 
secret  of  our  own  security.  More  than  sixty  years  have  elapsed 
since  our  independence  was  acknowledged  by  Great  Britain ;  and 
during  all  this  time  no  invader,  except  when  provoked  by  the  hos- 
tilities we  had  ourselves  begun,  has  set  foot  upon  our  soil ;  nor 
has  there  been  any  real  need  of  drawing  the  sword  to  secure  from 
other  nations  a  proper  respect  for  our  rights,  or  an  equitable  re- 
dress for  our  wrongs.  Yet  has  our  policy  ever  been  essentially 
and  eminently  pacific.     We  have  had  the  merest  handful  of  men 


4  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  336 

for  a  standing  army  ;  our  navy  too,  though  in  high  repute  for 
its  skill  and  bravery,  has  always  been  comparatively  small ;  and 
in  all  our  intercourse  with  otlier  nations,  we  have  relied  almost 
entirely  on  the  excellence  of  our  principles,  and  the  justice  of  our 
cause.  We  have  doubtless  experienced  occasional  injury,  and 
gome  delays  of  justice  ;  but  we  have  suffered  as  little  as  any  other 
people  in  the  same  time,  and  far  less  than  we  should  from  an  op- 
posite policy. 

An  example  still  more  striking  is  found  in  the  commonwealth 
of  San  Marino.  This  little  republic  in  Italy,  the  smallest  inde- 
pendent state  in  Europe,  covers,  on  a  single  mountain  and  two 
adjoining  hills,  some  thirty  square  miles,  and  contains  in  its 
capital,  and  four  villages,  only  7000  inhabitants.  Yet  has  this 
petty  republic  existed,  very  much  in  its  present  form,  more 
than  thirteen  centuries.  The  thunderbolts  of  war  have  fallen 
thick  but  harmless  around  it ;  other  republics,  proud  of  their 
military  strength,  have  been  swept  from  the  earth;  Italy  has 
repeatedly  been  covered  with  armies,  and  drenched  in  blood ; 
thrones  have  crumbled,  and  dynasties  perished,  and  all  Europe 
been  shaken  to  its  centre  by  political  convulsions ;  yet  San  Ma- 
rino, strong  in  its  very  weakness,  and  safe  mainly  by  its  reliance 
on  a  pacific  policy,  has  remained  without  harm  or  assault  It 
claims  the  right  of  violent  defence,  but  provides  few  means  for  the 
purpose,  and  none  sufficient  to  deter  or  provoke  its  neighbors. 
How  shall  we  account  for  its  long  and  perfect  safety  ?  No  state 
is  too  poor  for  the  clutches  of  avarice,  none  too  small  for  the  grasp 
of  ambition ;  and  but  for  its  pacific  policy,  and  tlie  indelible  dis- 
grace of  assailing  a  community  so  defenceless,  San  Marino  would 
long  since  have  been  merged  in  some  neighboring  nation. 

Such  are  the  results  of  peace  principles  partially  applied  ;  and 
would  not  their  full  application  be  still  more  successful  ?  Such  a 
conclusion,  indeed,  might  well  seem  almost  self-evident ;  but  let 
us  proceed  to  prove  it,  first  from  the  promised  protection  of  heaven^ 
next  from  the  natural  tendency  of  such  principles^  and  finally  from 
the  history  of  their  actual  influence. 

God,  then,  has  promised  protection  to  those  who  act  on  the  pa- 
cific principles  of  his  gospel.  Here  is  security  enough.  It  is  al- 
ways safe  to  do  right ;  and  no  man,  or  body  of  men,  ever  did  their 
duty,  and  trusted  God  in  vain.  It  may  have  seemed  otherwise  for 
a  time  ;  but  it  was  not  in  vain,  nor  ever  can  be.  History  is  full 
of  proofs  on  this  point ;  and  if  God  has  made  it  the  duty  of  nations 
in  their  intercourse  to  put  in  practice  tlie  principles  of  peace,  then 
may  they  do  so  in  full  confidence  of  his  protection.  His  promises 
insure  their  safety.  "  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he 
thirst,  give  him  drink ;  for  in  so  doing,  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  his  head.  Who  is  he  that  will  harm  you,  if  ye  be  follow- 
ers of  that  which  is  good  ?  When  a  man's  ways  please  the  Lord, 
he  maketh  even  his  enemies  to  be  at  peace  with  him."  Both  the 
New  Testament  and  the  Old  are  replete  with  promises  of  divine 
protection  to  those  who  obey  and  trust  God ;  and  ever  will  the 


337  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  'Sn 

path  of  obedience  to  him  be  found  a  path  of  safety  both  for  indi- 
viduals and  for  nations. 

This  point  needs  little  proof;  but  take  an  illustration  from  the 
Old  Testament.  God  bade  the  Israelites,  "  thrice  in  a  year  shall 
all  your  man-children  appear  before  the  Lord  ;"  and  he  added  the 
promise,  "  neither  shall  any  man  desire  thy  land  when  thou  shalt 
go  up  to  appear  before  the  Lord  thy  God  thrice  in  the  year."  So 
the  result  proved  ;  for  a  learned  author  assures  us,  "  that  the  He- 
brew territories  remained  free  from  invasions,  while  all  the  adult 
males  three  times  every  year  went  to  the  Tabernacle  or  the  Tem- 
ple, without  leaving  in  their  cities  and  villages  any  guard  to  pro- 
tect them  from  foreign  incursions  ;  and  in  no  instance  does  there 
appear  to  have  been  any  hostile  attack  made  upon  them  at  such 
times." 

The  Bible  is  full  of  instances  very  like  this  ;  the  history  of 
God's  ancient  people  exhibits  a  series  of  similar  interpositions ; 
nor  should  we,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  expect  any  other  re- 
sult. If  he  knows  what  is  best  for  us,  can  we  suppose  that  a  God 
of  infinite  love  would  enjoin  upon  us  a  course  of  conduct  fatal  to 
our  welfare  ?  The  supposition  would  impeach  every  attribute  of 
his  character.  If  he  hath  the  hearts  of  all  entirely  in  his  hand  ; 
if  he  doeth  his  pleasure  in  the  armies  of  heaven,  and  among  the 
inhabitants  of  earth  ;  if  he  controls  every  event  from  the  falling  of 
a  sparrow  to  the  revolutions  of  an  empire  and  a  world  ;  if  all  his 
attributes  are  pledged  for  the  protection  of  such  as  obey  his  will, 
and  trust  his  promises  for  safety  ;  can  we  doubt  that  he  will  fulfil 
those  promises  in  their  actual  preservation  from  danger  ? 

To  this  question,  the  history  not  only  of  the  Israelites,  but  of 
Christian  missionaries  in  every  age,  gives  a  most  triumphant  an- 
swer. They  have  gone  forth  to  combat  the  errors  and  sins  of  a 
world  lying  in  wickedness ;  and  while  assailing  time-hallowed 
prejudices,  and  thus  provoking  both  anger  and  revenge,  they  have 
for  the  most  part  been  safe  under  the  invisible  but  omnipotent  and 
almighty  protection  of  Him  who  called  them  to  such  perilous, 
godlike  services.  Look  at  the  herald  of  the  cross.  He  is  far 
away  from  his  native  land,  with  no  promise  or  hope  of  safety  from 
its_power ;  he  takes  up  his^  abode  in  Greenland  or  Caffraria, 
among  savages  and  cannibals  ;  he  has  no  means  whatever  of  de- 
fence, but,  like  a  lamb  among  wolves,  is  entirely  at  the  mercy  of 
men  inured  to  blood,  and  steeled  to  compassion.  Yet  is  the  mis- 
sionary safe  even  there.  Trusting  in  his  character,  in  his  work,  in 
his  God,  he  walks  unharmed,  and  sleeps  without  fear,  in  the 
midst  of  those  whose  chief  business  is  the  butchery  of  mankind. 
The  warrior  just  returned  from  battle,  the  savage  holding  still  in 
his  hand  the  green  scalps  of  his  victims,  the  cannibal  fresh  from 
the  taste  of  human  flesh,  all  unite  in  spontaneous  deference  to  the 
man  of  peace,  the  messenger  of  love  from  the  Great  Spirit  to  his 
wild,  wandering  children.  There  is  no  weapon  of  death  in  his 
hand,  no  word  of  menace  on  his  lips,  no  scowl  of  defiance  or  mal- 
ice on  his  brow  ;  and  the  rude,  untutored  sons  of  nature  welcome 


6  SAFETY  OF  PACIFIC  PRINCIPLES.  338 

him  to  their  homes  and  their  hearts,  as  one  whom  none  must  harm. 
Even  in  their  bosoms  we  find  a  principle  which  reveres  his  char- 
acter and  mission  of  peace,  and  renders  him  far  safer  than  he 
would  be  with  all  the  bayonets  of  Christendom  to  guard  him. 
We  grant  that  missionaries  have  sometimes  been  persecuted,  and 
have  occasionally  fallen  victims;  but  we  believe  this  has  always 
resulted  from  some  misapprehension  of  their  real  character  and  in- 
tentions. When  these  have  been  fully  understood,  the  heralds 
of  the  cross,  in  the  simple  panoply  of  the  gospel,  have  been  safe, 
like  those  saints  of  old  who  passed  unharmed  through  the  fiery 
furnace.  God  has  been  their  protector ;  and  even  in  the  lion's 
den  have  his  Egedes  and  Eliots,  his  Brainerds  and  Martyns, 
walked  fearless  and  secure,  not  merely  because  his  providence 
guarded  them,  but  because  his  hand  had  planted  in  men  a  princi- 
ple which  makes  them  spontaneously  yield  to  the  charms  of  good- 
ness, to  the  welcome  power  of  peace  and  love. 

Let  us  look  at  some  instances  of  providential  protection.  The 
natives  of  the  South  Sea  Islands  once  came  down  upon  the  mis- 
sionaries, with  the  intention  of  killing  them,  for  the  sole  purpose 
of.  seizing  their  property  which  they  coveted.  The  mission- 
aries expostulated  with  tliem  in  vain  ;  they  still  persisted  in  their 
bloody  design,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of  carrying  it  into  efiect. 
God  was  the  only  resort ;  and  the  missionaries,  turning  towards 
each  other,  knelt  in  prayer,  and  expected  every  moment  the  war- 
club  to  dash  out  their  brains.  They  rose  at  length  from  their 
knees  ;  and  the  natives  were  gone !  They  feared  an  ambush,  or 
some  other  stratagem,  and  searched  for  them  with  care,  but  could 
discover  no  traces  of  their  assailants.  They  went  to  the  sea- 
shore ;  but  the  natives  were  not  there.  At  length  they  met  a 
little  boy,  of  whom  they  inquired,  'where  are  all  the  people?' 
"  Why,"  said  he,  "  don't  you  know  ?  They  are  gone  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island  to  hide  themselves  in  the  wood."  '  And  how 
came  they  to  do  that  ? '  "  When  they  saw  you  praying,"  replied 
the  boy,  "  and  heard  you  call  on  your  God,  and  knew  that  he  is  a 
great  and  mighty  God,  they  were  afraid  he  would  come  down, 
and  kill  them  all,  and  so  they  all  ran  away  to  liide  themselves." 

A  case  still  more  remarkable  occurred  at  the  siege  of  Copenha- 
gen under  Lord  Nelson.  An  officer  in  the  fleet  says,  "  I  was 
particularly  impressed  with  an  object  which  I  saw  three  or  four 
^ays  after  the  terrific  bombardment  of  that  place.  For  several 
nights  before  the  surrender,  the  darkness  was  ushered  in  with  a 
tremendous  roar  of  guns  and  mortars,  accompanied  by  the  whiz- 
zing of  those  destructive  and  burning  engines  of  warfare,  Con- 
greve's  rockets.  The  dreadful  effects  were  soon  visible  in  the- 
brilliant  lights  through  the  city.  The  blazing  houses  of  the  rich, 
and  the  burning  cottages  of  the  poor,  illuminated  the  heavens ; 
and  the  wide-spreading  flames,  reflecting  on  the  water,  showed  a 
forest  of  ships  assembled  round  the  city  for  its  destruction.  This 
work  of  conflagration  went  on  for  several  nights  ;  but  the  Danes 
at  length  surrendered  ;  and  on  walking  some  days  after  among' 


339  SAFETY    OF    IIACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  5?. 

the  ruins,  consisting  of  the  cottages  of  the  poor,  houses  of  the  rich, 
manufactories,  lofty  steeples,  and  hiimble  meeting-houses,  I  des- 
cried, amid  this  barren  tield  of  desolation,  a  solitary  house  un- 
harmed ;  all  around  it  a  burnt  mass,  this  alone  untouched  by  the 
fire,  a  monument  of  mercy.  Whose  house  is  that?  I  asked. 
'  That,'  said  the  interpreter,  '  belongs  to  a  Quaker.  He  would 
neither  fight,  nor  leave  his  house,  but  remained  in  prayer  with  his 
family  during  the  whole  bombardment.'  Surely,  thought  I,  it  is 
well  with  the  righteous.  God  has  been  a  shield  to  thee  in  battle, 
a  wall  of  fire  round  about  thee,  a  very  present  help  in  time  of  need.'* 

II.  Such  is  God's  care  of  the  peace-maker  ;  but  let  us  glance  at 
the  natural  tendency  of  his  principles.  Their  power  is  peculiar  and 
universal.  They  address  some  of  the  deepest,  strongest  elements 
in  the  nature  of  man.  There  is  in  innocence  and  love,  in  meek- 
ness, forbearance  and  forgiveness,  in  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  for 
others,  in  the  principle  of  returning  only  good  for  evil,  a  charm 
which  few  can  resist  Even  the  maniac,  the  beast  of  the  fbrest, 
the  very  reptile  at  our  feet,  all  feel  its  power.  It  allays  passion ; 
it  disarms  hatred  ;  it  checks  revenge  ;  it  subdues  the  felon  and 
the  savage.  From  every  heart  does  it  call  back  echoes  of  its  own 
sweet  and  soothing  voice.  Like  begets  like  ;  and  whatever  spirit 
we  breathe  in  our  intercourse  with  others,  we  may  expect  them  to 
manifest  more  or  less  of  the  same  spirit  towards  ourselves.  Hate 
them,  and  they  will  hate  you  ;  love  them,  and  you  will  ere  long 
kindle  in  their  bosoms  an  affection  responsive  to  your  own ;  curse 
them,  and  they  will  fling  back  your  curses ;  menace  them,  and 
you  Avill  rouse  a  spirit  of  stern  defiance  ;  assail  them,  and  they 
will  turn  upon  you  in  wrath  ;  do  them  either  good  or  evil,  and  you 
may  expect  a  return  of  your  own  treatment.  You  must  first  give 
to  others  what  you  wish  from  them.  It  is  a  law  of  our  moral  na- 
ture. Speak  in  harsh,  angry  tones  to  any  man,  and  his  first  im- 
pulse will  be  to  answer  you  in  the  same  tones.  Address  words  of 
respect  and  kindness  to  the  veriest  churl  or  brawler  in  the  streets, 
and  he  will  make  an  honest  effort  to  treat  you  as  well  as  you  have 
treated  him. 

But  weakness  and -innocence  are  their  own  protection,  better 
far  than  lead  and  steel.  Throw  an  infant  on  the  mercy  of  any 
man,  civilized  or  savage  ;  and,  so  far  from  killing  it,  he  will  in- 
stinctively respond  to  its  claims  upon  his  kindness  and  care.  If 
that  infant  belongs  to  his  enemy,  he  may  wreak  his  vengeance  on 
the  latter  by  murdering  the  former ;  but  the  child,  left  to  itself, 
he  would  spontaneously  protect  and  cherish.  No  man  assails,  or 
challenges  to  mortal  combat,  a  woman,  a  feeble  old  man,  or  a 
minister  of  the  gospel.  Whence  their  security  ?  They  carry  no 
weapons ;  they  utter  no  threats ;  they  have  little  or  no  power  to 
defend  themselves  by  force ;  they  look  for  protection,  nor  look  in 
vain,  to  the  great  principles  of  our  nature.  In  these  there  is  far 
more  power  for  such  a  purpose,  than  there  is  in  any  weapons  of 
violence  that  a  Hercules  ever  wielded  ;  and  the  feeblest,  most  de- 


8  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PaiNClPLES.  340 

fenceless,  will  generally  be  found  to  enjoy  tlie  greatest  degree  of 
safety.  Even  tlie  iron  tempest  of  war  sweeps  over  tliem  com- 
paratively harmless.  At  the  close  of  a  battle,  a  soldier  of  the  vic- 
torious army,  more  ferocious  and  reckless  from  the  bloody  work 
of  the  day,  chanced  to  find  a  small  boy  on  the  field,  and,  very 
much  from  tlie  habit  of  assailing  whatever  came  in  his  way,  lifted 
his  sword  to  cleave  him  down,  when  the  little  fellow,  looking  up 
in  his  face,  exclaimed,  "  O  sir,  donH  kill  me,  i'w  so  little.  That 
simple  appeal  went  to  the  warrior's  heart;  and  returning  his 
sword  into  its  scabbard,  he  galloped  away  witliout  harming  the 
child.  Some  men  there  possibly  may  be  who  would  have  killed 
him ;  but  scarce  one  man  in  a  million  would  so  outrage  his  own 
nature. 

Men  generally  rely  upon  force ;  but  there  is,  in  truth,  far  more 
efficacy  in  persuasion.  iEsop,  in  one  of  his  fables,  relates  a  con- 
test between  the  sun  and  the  north  wind  to  see  which  should  first 
disarm  a  certain  traveller  of  his  cloak.  The  wind  blew,  and  the 
traveller  wrapped  his  cloak  more  tightly  about  him ;  it  blew  still 
more  loudly,  but  he  only  held  his  cloak  with  a  firmer  grasp  than 
ever;  the  fiercer  the  assault,  the  more  vigorous  and  determined 
the  resistance.  The  sun  took  an  opposite  course  ;  he  betrayed  no 
purpose  of  violence,  no  symptoms  of  wrath,  but  spread  over  hill 
and  valley  the  warmth  of  his  purest,  gentlest  radiance ;  the  trav- 
eller smiled,  and  at  once  yielded  to  persuasion  what  he  had  denied 
to  force.  Such  is  human  nature  ;  and  a  counterpart  to  this  beau- 
tiful picture  may  be  found  all  over  tlie  earth. 

Universal  experience  proves  the  truth  of  this  principle.  You 
will  find  it  at  work  every  M'here ;  and  a  man,  knoitm  to  be  un- 
armed, would  be  safer  even  among  robbers  and  assassins,  pirates 
and  savages,  than  he  would  with  the  most  formidable  weapons. 
Let  us  hear  the  deliberate  judgment  of  one  taught  by  long  and 
familiar  acquaintance  with  the  worst  specimens  of  humanity. 
"  Spanish  smugglers,"  says  Raymond,  "  are  as  adroit  as  they  are 
determined,  are  familiarized  at  all  times  with  peril,  and  march  in 
the  very  face  of  death.  Their  first  movement  is  a  never-failing 
shot,  and  certainly  would  be  a  subject  of  dread  to  most  travellers  ; 
for  where  are  they  to  be  dreaded  more  than  in  deserts  where 
crime  has  nothing  to  witness  it,  and  the  feeble  no  assistance  ? 
As  for  myself,  alone  and  unarmed,  I  have  met  them  without  anx- 
iety, and  accompanied  them  without  fear.  We  have  little  to  ap- 
prehend from  men  whom  we  inspire  with  no  distrust  or  envy,  and 
every  thing  to  expect  in  those  from  whom  we  claim  only  what  is 
due  from  man  to  man.  The  laws  of  nature  still  exist  for  those 
who  have  long  shaken  oflf  tlie  laws  of  civil  government  At  war 
with  society,  they  are  sometimes  at  peace  with  their  fellows.  The 
assassin  has  been  my  guide  in  the  defiles  of  Italy,  and  the 
smuggler  of  tlie  Pyrenees  has  welcomed  me  to  his  secret  paths. 
Armed,  I  should  have  been  the  enemy  of  both  ;  unarmed,  they 
have  alike  respected  me.  In  such  expectation,  I  have  long  since 
laid  aside  all  menacing  apparatus  whatever.     Arms  may  indeed 


341  SAFETY    OP    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  ^ 

be  employed  against  wild  beasts ;  but  no  one  should  forget  that 
they  are  no  defence  against  the  traitor ;  that  they  irritate  the 
wicked,  and  intimidate  the  simple;  lastly,  that  the  man  of  peace 
among  mankind  has  a  much  more  sacred  defence — his  character." 

III.  But  let  us  inquire  more  fully  into  the  actual  results  of  the 
peace  principle.  We  shall  find  it  has  power  over  the  young  and 
the  old,  over  the  refined  and  the  rude,  over  the  bad  as  well  as 
^he  good,  over  savages,  maniacs,  and  even  brutes.  Nor  can 
we  wonder  when  we  look  at  its  nature.  A  slave  in  one  of  the 
West  Indies,  originally  from  Africa,  became,  after  his  conversion, 
singularly  valuable  on  account  of  his  integrity  and  general  good 
conduct.  His  master  at  length  raised  him  to  a  situation  of  some 
consequence,  and  used  to  employ  him  in  the  purchase  of  new 
slaves.  On  one  occasion  he  was  sent  with  instructions  to  select 
twenty  of  the  strongest,  most  able-bodied  he  could  find  in  the 
market ;  but  he  had  not  long  surveyed  the  multitude  offered  for 
sale,  before  he  fixed  his  eye  intently  on  a  feeble,  decrepit  old 
man,  and  told  his  master  he  must  be  one  of  the  twenty.  His 
master  in  surprise  remonstrated  against  so  strange  a  choice  ;  but 
the  poor  fellow  begged  so  hard  to  be  indulged,  that  the  dealer  said 
if  they  took  twenty,  he  would  give  them  the  old  man  in  the  bar- 
gain. The  purchase  was  accordingly  made,  and  the  slaves  con- 
ducted to  the  plantation ;  but  upon  none  did  the  negro  bestow  half 
the  attention  and  care  he  did  upon  the  old  African.  He  took  him 
to  his  own  habitation,  and  laid  him  on  his  own  bed  ;  he  fed  hira 
at  his  own  table,  and  gave  him  drink  out  of  his  own  cup ;  when 
he  was  cold,  he  carried  him  into  the  sun-shine,  and  when  hot,  he 
placed  him  under  the  shade  of  the  cocoa-nut  trees.  Astonished 
at  such  attentions,  his  master  interrogated  him  on  the  subject. 
'  Why  do  you  take  such  interest  in  that  worthless  old  man  ? 
There  must  be  some  special  reason ;  he  is  a  relative  of  yours, 
perhaps  your  father  ?  "  No,  massa,"  answered  the  poor  fellow, 
"  he  no  my  fader ! "  'An  elder  brother  then  ! '  "  No,  massa,  he  no 
my  broder  ! "  '  Then  he  is  an  uncle,  or  some  other  relation.* 
"  No,  massa,  he  no  be  of  my  kindred  at  all,  nor  even  my  friend  !" 
'  Then,'  asked  the  master  in  astonishment,  '  why  do  you  take  so 
much  interest  in  the  old  fellow?'  "  He  my  ene.my,  massa,"  re- 
plied the  slave  ;  "  he  sold  me  to  the  slave-dealer ;  and  my  Bible 
tell  me  when  my  enemy  hunger,  feed  him,  and  when  he  thirst, 
give  him  drink." 

Such  a  principle  touches  a  responsive  cord  even  in  brutes.  I 
once  read  of  a  lion  so  pained  by  a  thorn  in  his  paw  which  he 
could  not  himself  extract,  that  he  prevailed  by  some  means  upon  a 
passing  boy  to  pull  it  out ;  and  that  act  of  kindness  attached  the 
king  of  the  forest  to  the  lad,  and  drew  forth  a  flood  of  the  fondest 
caresses.  Martin  tells  a  similar  story  of  a  lion  on  board  a  British 
war-ship.  Prince  had  a  keeper  to  whom  he  was  much  attached. 
The  keeper  got  drunk  one  day ;  and,  as  the  captain  never  forgave 
the  crime,  the  keeper  was  ordered  to  be  flogged.     The  grating 


10  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPliES. 

was  rigged  on  the  main  deck  opposite  Prince's  den,  a  large 
barred  up  place,  the  pillars  large,  and  cased  with  iron.  When 
tlie  keeper  begun  to  strip,  Prince  rose  gloomily  from  his  couch, 
and  got  as  near  to  his  friend  as  possible.  On  beholding  his 
bare  back,  he  walked  hastily  round  the  den  ;  and  when  he  saw 
the  boatswain  inflict  the  first  lash,  his  eyes  sparkled  with  fire,  and 
his  sides  resounded  with  the  strong  and  quick  beatings  of  his  tail. 
At  last,  when  the  blood  began  to  flow  from  tlie  unfortunate  man's 
back,  and  the  '  clotted  cats  '  jerked  their  gory  knots  close  to  the 
lion's  den,  his  fury  became  tremendous.  He  roared  with  a  voice 
of  tliunder,  shook  the  strong  bars  of  his  prison  as  if  they  had  been 
osiers,  and  finding  his  eflforts  to  break  loose  unavailing,  he  rolled 
and  shrieked  in  a  manner  the  most  terrific  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 
The  captain,  fearing  he  might  break  loose,  ordered  the  marines 
to  load,  and  present  at  Prince.  This  threat,  however,  only  re- 
doubled his  rage ;  and  at  last  the  captain  desired  the  keeper  to  be 
cast  off,  and  go  to  his  friend.  It  Is  impossible  to  describe  the  joy 
evinced  by  the  lion.  He  licked  with  care  the  mangled  and  bleed- 
ing back  of  the  cruelly  treated  seaman,  caressed  him  with  his  paws, 
which  he  folded  round  the  keeper  as  if  to  defy  any  one  renewmg 
a  similar  treatment ;  and  it  was  only  after  several  hours  that  Prince 
would  allow  the  keeper  to  quit  his  protection,  and  return  among 
those  who  had  so  ill  used  him. 

Let  us  see  the  effects  of  this  principle  upon  the  most  unman- 
ageable of  human  beings,  men  who  have  lost  their  reason.  It 
used  to  be  supposed,  that  force  alone  would  suffice  for  the  control 
of  maniacs,  and  they  were  treated  entirely  on  the  war-principle  ; 
but  the  whole  mode  of  treatment  has  been  changed,  and  kindness 
now  takes  the  place  of  violence.  The  results  are  well  known ; 
but  this  new  system  had  at  its  outset  to  encounter  what  may  now 
seem  a  strange  skepticism.  Its  introduction  into  this  country  is 
comparatively  recent ;  and  we  will  take  the  story  of  its  first  trial 
in  France. 

In  1792,  Pinel,  who  had  been  for  some  time  chief  physician  to 
the  Bicetre,  or  mad-house  of  Paris,  begged  repeatedly  of  tlie  public 
authorities,  to  let  him  remove  the  chains  from  the  furious.  His 
applications  having  been  unsuccessful,  he  presented  himself  before 
the  commune  of  Paris,  and  repeating  his  objections  with  increased 
warmtli,  urged  a  reform  of  such  monstrous-treatment.  "Citizen," 
said  one  of  the  members  to  him,  "  I  will  to-morrow  go  to  visit  the 
Bicetre ;  but  wo  betide  thee,  if  thou  deceivest  us,  and  concealest 
any  of  the  enemies  of  tlie  people  amongst  thy  insane." 

This  member  of  the  commune  was  Couthon.  The  next  day  be 
went  to  the  Bicetre.  Couthon  was  himself  as  strange  a  spectacle 
as  any  whom  he  visited.  Deprived  of  the  use  of  his  lower  extremi- 
ties, and  compelled  to  be  borne  on  the  arms  of  others,  he  appeared, 
says  Pinel,  a  fraction  of  humanity  implanted  on  another's  body ; 
and  from  out  of  this  deformity,  pronounced  in  a  feeble  and  femi- 
nine voice,  merciless  sentences  proceeded,  sentences  of  death  ;  for 
death  was  the  only  logic  that  then  prevailed.  Couthon  visited  the 
insane  in  succcs^-ion,  and  questioned  them  himself;  but  he  rec^eivcd 


343  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  Hi 

only  imprecations  amidst  the  clanking  of  chains  on  floors  disgust- 
ingly filtliy  from  the  evacuations  of  the  miserable  occupants.  Fa- 
tigued with  the  monotony  and  revolting  character  of  this  spec- 
tacle, Couthon  returned  to  Pinel.  "  Citizen,"  said  he,  "  art 
thou  thyself  mad  to  desire  to  unchain  such  animals  ? "  '  Citi- 
zen,' replied  Pinel,  '  I  am  convinced  that  these  lunatics  are  in- 
tractable only  from  being  deprived  of  air  and  liberty,  and  I  ex- 
pect much  from  a  different  course.'  "  Well,"  said  Couthon,  "  do 
as  thou  likest ;  I  leave  them  to  thee ;  but  I  am  afraid  thou  wilt 
fall  a  victim  to  thy  presumption." 

Master  of  his  own  actions,  Pinel  immediately  commenced  his 
undertaking,  fully  aware  of  its  real  difficulties  ;  for  he  was 
going  to  set  at  liberty  about  fifty  furious  maniacs,  without  injuri- 
ous or  dangerous  consequences,  as  he  hoped,  to  the  other  peace- 
able inmates  of  the  establishment.  He  determined  to  unchain  no 
more  than  twelve  at  the  first  trial ;  and  the  only  precaution  he 
took,  was  to  have  an  equal  number  of  strait  jackets  prepared,  made 
of  strong  linen  with  long  sleeves,  which  could  be  tied  behind  the 
back  of  the  maniac,  should  it  become  necessary  to  restrict  him 
from  committing  acts  of  violence. 

The  first  person  to  whom  Pinel  addressed  himself,  had  been  a 
resident  for  the  longest  period  in  this  abode  of  misery.  He  was 
an  English  captain,  whose  history  was  unknown,  but  who  had 
been  chained  there  for  forty  years.  He  was  looked  upon  as  the 
most  terrible  of  all  the  insane.  His  attendants  always  approached 
him  with  circumspection ;  tor  in  a  paroxysm  of  fury,  he  had  struck 
one  of  the  servants  on  the  head  with  his  manacles,  and  killed  him 
on  the  spot.  He  was  confined  with  more  rigor  than  many  of  the 
others,  which  circumstance,  combined  with  almost  total  neglect  on 
the  part  of  the  keepers,  had  exasperated  a  disposition  naturally 
furious.  Pinel  entered  his  cell  alone,  and  approached  him  calmly. 
'  Captain,'  said  he, '  if  I  were  to  remove  your  chains,  and  to  give  you 
liberty  to  walk  in  the  court,  would  you  promise  me  to  be  rational, 
and  do  harm  to  no  one  ? '  "I  promise  thee.  But  thou  mockest 
me ;  they,  as  well  as  thyself,  are  too  much  afraid  of  me."  '  As- 
suredly not.  I  have  no  fear  ;  for  I  have  six  men  at  hand  to  make 
me  respected,  should  it  be  necessary.  But  believe  my  word  ;  be 
confiding  and  docile.  I  will  give  you  liberty,  if  you  will  allow  j 
me  to  substitute  this  strait  waistcoat  for  your  ponderous  chains.'     -rf 

The  captain  yielded  with  a  good  grace  to  every  thing  re- 
quired of  him,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  but  without  uttering  a 
word.  In  a  few  minutes  his  irons  were  completely  removed,  and 
Pinel  withdrew,  leaving  the  door  of  the  cell  open.  Several  times 
the  maniac  raised  himself  from  his  seat,  but  fell  back  again ;  he 
had  kept  the  sitting  posture  so  long  that  he  had  lost  the  use  of  his 
legs.  At  length,  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  after  repeated 
attempts,  he  succeeded  in  retaining  his  equilibrium,  and  from  the 
depth  of  his  dark  cell  advanced  staggering  towards  the  door.  His 
first  action  was  to  look  at  the  sky,  and  exclaim  in  ecstasy, 
"  How  beautiful ! "  Through  the  whole  day  he  ran  about,  ascend- 
ing and  descending  the  stairs,  and  constantly  repeating  the  excla-  . 


1^  SAFETY    OP    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  344 

mation,  "  How  beautiful !  how  good  ! "  In  the  evening  he  re- 
turned to  his  cell,  slept  tranquilly  on  a  better  bed,  which  had  been 
provided  for  him  ;  and  during  the  two  additional  years  which  he 
passed  in  the  Bicetre,  he  had  no  paroxysm  of  fury.  He  rendered 
himself,  indeed,  useful  in  tlie  establishment,  by  exerting  a  certain 
degree  of  authority  over  the  patients,  whom  he  governed  after  his 
own  fashion,  and  over  whom  he  elected  himself  a  kind  of  super- 
intendent. 

But  the  case  of  Chevinge,  a  soldier  of  the  French  guards,  is 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  most  memorable  feats  of  that  interesting 
and  eventful  day.  While  in  the  army,  he  had  but  one  fault — 
drunkenness  ;  and  when  in  this  state  he  became  turbulent,  violent, 
and  the  more  dangerous  from  his  strength  being  prodigious.  Ow- 
ing to  his  repeated  excesses,  he  was  dismissed  from  his  regiment, 
and  soon  dissipated  his  limited  resources.  Shame  and  misery  sub- 
sequently plunged  him  into  such  a  state  of  depression,  that  his  in- 
tellect became  disordered.  In  his  delirium  he  thought  he  had 
been  made  a  general,  and  beat  those  who  did  not  admit  his  rank 
and  quality  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  a  violent  disturbance  thus 
originating,  he  was  taken  to  the  Bicetre,  laboring  under  the  most 
furious  excitement  He  had  been  confined  in  chains  for  ten  years, 
and  wilh  more  severity  than  most  of  his  fellow  sufferers,  as  he  had 
frequently  broken  asunder  his  irons  by  the  sole  strength  of  his 
hands.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  obtained  momentary  liberty  in 
this  manner,  he  set  at  defiance  the  united  efforts  of  all  his  keepers 
to  make  him  re-enter  his  cell.  His  strength  had,  indeed,  become 
proverbial  at  the  Bicetre. 

Pinel,  on  several  visits,  had  discovered  in  Chevinge  an  excel- 
lent disposition,  masked  under  the  excitement  incessantly  occa- 
sioned by  cruel  treatment  He  promised  the  lunatic  to  ameliorate 
his  condition,  and  this  promise  itself  rendered  him  more  tranquil. 
Pinel  at  length  told  him  he  should  be  no  longer  chained;  'and 
to  prove  the  confidence  I  have  in  thee,'  said  he,  '  and  that  I  re- 
gard thee  as  a  man  adapted  for  doing  good,  thou  shalt  aid  me  in 
freeing  those  unfortunates  who  have  not  their  reason  like  thee  ; 
and  if  thou  conductest  thyself  as  I  have  reason  to  hope,  I  will  take 
thee  into  my  service,  and  thou  shalt  never  quit  me.  Never,'  adds 
Pinel,  '  was  there  a  more  sudden  and  complete  revolution.  The 
keepers  themselves  were  impressed  with  respect  and  astonishment 
at  the  spectacle  which  Chevinge  afforded.'  Scarcely  was  he  lib- 
erated when  he  was  seen  anticipating  and  foUoM'ing  with  his  eye, 
every  motion  of  Pinel,  executing  his  orders  with  skill  and  promp- 
titude, and  addressing  words  of  reason  and  kindness  to  the  insane, 
on  the  level  with  whom  he  had  been  but  a  short  time  before. 
This  man  whom  chains  had  kept  degraded  during  the  best  years 
of  his  life,  and  who  would  doubtless  have  spent  the  remainder  of 
his  existence  in  the  same  wretched  condition,  became  afterwards 
a  model  of  good  conduct  and  gratitude.  Often,  in  tlie  difficult 
times  of  the  revolution,  he  saved  the  life  of  Pinol,  and  on  one  oc- 
casion rescued  him  from  a  band  of  miscreants  who  were  conduct- 
ing him  to  the  "  Lanterne,"  owing  to  his  having  been  an  elector  ill 


345  SAFETT    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  13 

1789.  During  the  time  of  famine,  he  left  the  Bicetre  every  morn- 
ing, and  returned  with  supplies  of  provisions  which  gold  could  not 
at  that  time  procure.  His  whole  life  was  one  of  perpetual  devo- 
tion to  his  liberator. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  the  shackles  were  removed  from 
fifty-five  lunatics.  An  unexpected  improvement  followed  from  a 
course  previously  regarded  impracticable  and  even  fatal.  The  fu- 
rious mad-men,  who  monthly  destroyed  hundreds  of  utensils,  re- 
nounced their  habits  of  violence ;  others,  who  tore  their  clothes, 
and  rioted  in  filth  and  nudity,  became  clean  and  decent ;  tranquillity 
and  harmony  succeeded  to  tumult  and  disorder ;  and  over  the 
whole  establishment  order  and  good  feeling  reigned. 

Mark,  also,  the  power  of  this  principle  over  criminals.  Mr. 
Pillsbury,  warden  of  the  state  prison  in  Connecticut,  once  received 
into  the  prison  a  man  of  gigantic  stature,  whose  crimes  had^for 
seventeen  years  made  him  t^e  terror  of  tlie  country.  He  told  the 
criminal  when  he  came,  he  hoped  he  would  not  repeat  the  at- 
tempts to  escape  which  he  had  made  elsewhere.  "It  will  be 
best,"  said  he,  "  that  you  and  I  should  treat  each  other  as  well  as 
we  can.  I  will  make  you  as  comfortable  as  I  possibly  can,  and  I 
shall  be  anxious  to  be  your  friend  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  not  get 
me  into  difficulty  on  your  account.  There  is  a  cell  intended  for 
solitary  confinement;  but  we  have  never  used  it,  and  I  should  be 
sorry  ever  to  have  to  turn  the  key  upon  any  body  in  it.  You  may 
range  the  place  as  freely  as  I  do ;  if  you  trust  me,  I  shall  trust  you." 
The  man  was  sulky,  and  for  weeks  showed  only  gradual  symp- 
toms of  softening  under  the  operation  of  Mr.  Pillsbury's  cheerful 
confidence.  At  length  information  was  brought  of  the  man's  in- 
tention to  break  prison.  The  warden  called  him,  and  taxed  him 
with  it ;  the  man  preserved  a  gloomy  silence.  He  was  told  it  was 
now  necessary  for  him  to  be  locked  in  the  solitary  cell,  and  de- 
sired to  follow  the  warden,  who  went  first,  carrying  a  lamp  in  one 
hand,  and  a  key  in  the  other.  In  the  narrowest  part  of  the  pas- 
sage, Mr.  Pillsbury,  a  small,  light  man,  turned  round,  and  looked 
in  the  face  of  the  stout  criminal.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  ask  whether 
you  have  treated  me  as  I  deserve  ?  I  have  done  every  thing  I 
could  to  make  you  happy ;  I  have  trusted  you ;  but  you  have  never 
given  me  the  least  confidence  in  return,  and  have  even  planned  to 
get  me  into  difficulty.  Is  this  kind  ?  And  yet  I  cannot  bear  to 
lock  you  up.  If  I  had  the  least  sign  that  you  cared  for  me  " — The 
man  burst  into  tears.  '  Sir,'  said  he,  '  I  have  been  a  very  devil 
these  seventeen  years ;  but  you  treat  me  like  a  man.'  "  Come, 
let  us  go  back,"  said  the  warden.  The  convict  had  free  range 
of  the  prison  as  before ;  and  from  this  hour  he  began  to  open  his 
heart  to  the  warden,  and  cheerfully  fulfilled  his  whole  term  of  im- 
prisonment. 

The  labors  of  Elizabeth  Fry  in  Newgate,  and  their  signal  suc- 
cess, are  well  known  ;  but  let  us  quote  the  case  of  Haynes,  ex- 
ecuted in  1799  at  Bristol,  Eng.  He  was  heavily  ironed,  yet  so  ex-* 
tremely  turbulent  and  outrageous,  that  the  other  prisoners  stood 

p.  T.       NO.    XL.       2 


14  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC     PRINCIPLES.  346 

in  fear  of  him,  and  were  obliged  to  be  constantly  on  tlieir  guard. 
It  became  necessary  even  to  call  out  the  military ;  but  this  only 
irritated  hiui,  and  made  him  worse.  He  would  expose  Jiis  naked 
breast  to  tlie  soldiers'  bayonets,  dare  fliem  to  run  him  through,  and 
say  he  would  rather  be  siiot  dead  than  surrender  himself  to  them. 
Yet,  when  force  failed,  remonstrance  succeeded  ;  for  he  actually 
delivered  up  to  the  persuasions  of  a  gentleman,  a  weapon  which 
a  tile  of  soldiers  were  unable  to  take  from  him.  A  pious  min- 
ister by  the  name  of  13undy,  used  to  visit  him,  and  at  length 
told  the  keeper  he  wished  to  spend  the  night  with  the  felon.  He 
was  warned  of  his  danger ;  but,  moved  with  compassion,  he  per- 
sisted, and  entered  the  prisoner's  cell.  Finding  him  prostrate  on 
tiie  floor  under  the  weight  of  his  irons,  he  persuaded  the  keeper  to 
let  him  have  one  hand  and  foot  at  liberty.  The  keeper  retired 
late  at  night,  locking  after  him  three  massive  doors ;  and  Haynes, 
immediately  lifting  up  his  liberated  hand,  and  reaching  a  clasped 
knife  he  had  concealed,  rushed  fiercely  towards  him,  exclaiming 
with  the  voice  and  looks  of  a  demon,  '  now  thou  art  in  my  power, 
I  will  kill  thee.'  The  man  of  God  thought  his  end  had  come ; 
but  suddenly  recalling  the  passage,  "  thou  canst  have  no  power  over 
me  unless  it  be  given  thee  from  above,"  was  instantly  raised  above 
all  fear,  and  calmly  met  tlie  enraged  culprit,  to  whom  he  kindly 
said,  "  now,  my  friend,  what  harm  have  I  done  you,  or  of  what 
service  would  my  death  be  to  you  ?  "  He  then  spoke  of  the  love 
of  Christ,  and  assured  the  felon,  tliat  he  was  ready  to  receive  all, 
even  the  most  wicked,  who  came  to  him.  These  Avords  of  kind- 
ness softened  the  culprit's  heart ;  he  threw  down  the  knife,  ac- 
knowledging his  guilt,  and  burst  into  tears.  Deeply  convicted 
at  length  of  sin,  he  asked  if  it  Avas  possible  for  such  a  sinner  as 
himself  ever  to  be  saved  ?  The  anguish  of  his  mind  was  extreme ; 
he  would  often  weep  bitterly  in  view  of  his  sins ;  and  there  is 
reason  to  hope  tliat  he  died  a  sincere  penitent 

A  case  still  stronger  occurred  in  France  early  in  the  same 
century.  A  pious  man  by  the  name  of  Claude,  was  confined 
in  the  Bastile,  and  along  with  him  a  felon  so  ferocious  and  brutal, 
that  no  one  durst  approach  him.  In  vain  had  every  possible  means 
been  used  to  humanize  him ;  and  when  all  expedients  had  failed, 
the  governor  urged  Claude  to  undertake  the  work.  His  humility 
at  first  declined  the  proposal ;  but  the  entreaties  of  the  governor 
prevailed  on  him  at  length  to  attempt  the  difficult  and  perilous  ser- 
vice, and  he  was  shut  up  with  the  human  brute.  He  received  the 
saint  with  the  greatest  rudeness,  and  exhausted  his  ferocity  in  re- 
vilings,  in  blows,  and  still  more  savage  tokens  of  his  disposition. 
To  this  treatment,  continued  till  the  mad-man  was  completely  ex- 
hausted, the  man  of  God  opposed  only  silence,  patience  and  meek- 
ness. His  prayers  achieved  the  rest.  The  monster,  after  abso- 
lutely wearying  himself  out  with  abuse  and  violence,  looked  at 
length  into  the  face  of  Claude,  and  seeing  the  love-  and  patient 
-tenignity  of  its  expression,  suddenly  threw  himself  at  his 
feet  in  a  flood  of  tears.  On  recovering  his  voice  enough  to 
speak,  he  expressed  the  utmost  abhorrence  of  himself,  as  well  as 


W^  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  16 

veneration  for  Claude,  and,  humbly  beseeching  his  forgiveness, 
'  implored  to  be  taught  a  religion  which  could  do  such  great  things. 
Claude,  raising  the  penitent,  and  embracing  him  with  tears,  showed 
' him  the  necessity  of  an  entire  and  thorough  change.  Nor  were 
his  instructions  in  vain ;  they  effected  a  complete  alteration  in  the 
man,  and  he  became  pious,  gentle  and  resigned,  a  tiger  trans- 
formed into  a  lamb. 

Take  also  the  case  of  Archbishop  Sharpe  and  the  footpad.  His 
lordship,  when  riding  alone,  was  met  by  a  well-looking  young  man, 
who  presented  a  pistol  to  his  breast,  and  demanded  his  money. 
The  archbishop,  with  great  composure,  turned  about,  and,  looking 
steadfastly  at  him,  desired  he  would  remove  that  dangerous  wea- 
pon, and  tell  him  fairly  his  condition.  "  Sir !  Sir ! "  with  great 
agitation,  cried  the  youth,  "  no  words,  'tis  not  a  time — your  money 
instantly." — 'Hear  me,  young  man,'  said  the  archbishop;  'you 
see  I  am  an  old  man,  and  my  life  is  of  very  little  consequence  ; 
yours  seems  far  otherwise.  I  am  named  Sharpe,  and  am  arch- 
bishop of  York ;  my  carriage  and  servants  are  behind.  Tell  me 
v/hat  money  you  want,  and  who  you  are  ;  and  I  will  not  injure  you, 
but  prove  a  friend.  Here,  take  this,'  giving  him  his  purse  ;  'and 
'  now  ingenuously  tell  me  how  much  you  want  to  make  you  inde- 
pendent of  so  destructive  a  business  as  you  are  now  engaged  in.' 
"  Oh,  Sir,"  replied  the  man,  "  I  detest  the  business  as  much  as 
you.  I  am — but — but  at  home  there  are  creditors  who  will  not 
stay  ;  fifty  pounds,  my  lord,  indeed  would  do  what  no  tongue  be- 
sides my  own  can  tell."  '  Well,  Sir,  I  take  it  on  your  word  ;  and, 
upon  my  honor,  if  you  Avill,  in  a  day  or  two,  call  on  me,  what  I 
have  now  given  shall  be  made  up  that  sum.'  The  highwayman 
went  off,  and  at  the  time  appointed,  actually  waited  on  the  arch- 
bishop, and  assured  him  his  words  had  left  impressions  which  no- 
thing could  ever  destroy. 

Nothing  more  transpired  for  nearly  two  years,  when  a  person 
knocked  at  his  grace's  gate,  and  with  a  peculiar  earnestness  de- 
sired to  see  him.  The  archbishop  ordered  the  stranger  to  be 
brought  in.  He  entered  the  room  where  his  lordship  was,  but 
had  scarce  advanced  a  few  steps  before  his  countenance  changed, 
his  knees  tottered,  and  he  sank  almost  breathless  on  the  floor. 
On  recovering,  he  requested  an  audience  in  private.  The  apart- 
ment being  cleared,  "  My  Lord,"  said  he,  "  you  cannot  have  for- 
gotten the  circumstances  at  such  a  time  and  place  ;  gratitude  will 
never  suffer  them  to  be  obliterated  from  my  mind.  In  me,  my 
lord,  you  behold  that  once  most  wretched  of  mankind,  but 
now,  by  your  inexpressible  humanity,  rendered  equal,  perhaps 
superior,  in  happiness  to  millions.  Oh,  my  lord,"  (tears  for  awhile 
preventing  his  utterance,)  "  'tis  you,  'tis  you,  that  have  saved  me, 
body  and  soul ;  'tis  you  that  have  saved  a  dear  and  much-loved 
wife,  and  a  little  brood  of  children,  whom  I  loved  dearer  than  my 
life.  Here  are  the  fifty  pounds ;  but  never  shall  I  find  language  to 
testify  what  I  feel.     I  was  the  younger  son  of  a  wealthy  man  j 

your  lordship  knows  him,  his  name  was  — .     My  marriage 

alienated  his  affection,  and  my  brother  withdrew  his  love,  and  left 


16  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRI^IPLES.  348 

me  to  sorrow  and  penury.  A  month  since,  my  brother  died  a 
bachelor,  and  intestate.  What  was  his,  is  become  mine ;  and,  by 
your  astonishing  goodness,  I  am  at  once  the  most  penitent,  most 
grateful,  and  happiest  of  my  species." 

Washington,  far  more  a  man  of  peace  than  of  war,  once  gave  a 
fine  and  impressive  illustration  of  the  peace  principle.  When  sta- 
tioned in  early  life  at  Alexandria,  with  a  regiment  under  his  com- 
mand, he  grew  warm  at  an  election,  and  said  something  offensive 
to  a  Mr.  Payne  who,  with  one  blow  of  his  cane,  brought  him  to 
the  ground.  On  hearing  of  the  insult,  the  regiment,  burning  for 
revenge,  started  for  the  city  ;  but  Washington  met  them,  and  beg- 
ged them,  by  their  regard  for  him,  to  return  peaceably  to  their 
barracks.  Finding  himself  in  the  wrong,  he  nobly  resolved  to 
make  an  honorable  reparation,  and  next  morning  sent  a  polite  note 
requesting  Payne  to  meet  him  at  the  tavern.  Payne  took  it  for  a 
challenge,  and  went  in  expectation  of  a  duel ;  but  what  Avas  his 
surprise  to  find  instead  of  pistols,  a  decanter  of  wine  on  the  table. 
Washington  rose  to  meet  him,  and  said  with  a  smile,  "  Mr.  Payne, 
to  err  is  human  ;  but  to  correct  our  errors  is  always  honorable.  I 
believe  I  was  wrong  yesterday ;  you  have  had,  I  think,  some  satis- 
faction ;  and  if  you  deem  that  sufficient,  here  is  my  hand — let  us 
be  friends."  Such  an  act  few  could  resist ;  and  Payne  became 
from  that  moment  through  life,  an  enthusiastic  friend  and  admirer 
of  Washington. 

This  principle  has  a  peculiar  charm  for  the  young.  *  One  day,' 
says  a  city  missionary  in  Boston,  '  I  visited  one  of  the  primary 
schools.  Some  fifty  children,  from  four  to  eight  years  old,  were 
present.  A  boy  about  seven  years  old,  and  his  sister  about  five, 
sat  near  me ;  and  while  I  was  talking  to  the  school,  George 
doubled  up  his  fist,  and  struck  his  sister  on  the  head.  She  was  an- 
gry in  a  moment,  and  raised  her  hand  to  strike  him  back.  The 
teacher,  happening  to  see  her  at  the  instant,  promptly  said,  "  Mary, 
you  had  better  kiss  your  brother."  The  girl  dropped  her  hand, 
and  looked  up  at  her  teacher  as  if  she  did  not  understand  her. 
She  had  never  been  taught  to  return  good  for  evil,  but  thought,  if 
her  brother  struck  her,  she  must  strike  him  back.  The  teacher, 
looking  very  kindly  both  at  her  and  at  George,  said  again,  "  My 
dear  Mary,  you  had  better  kiss  your  brother.  See  how  angry  and 
unhappy  he  looks ! "  Mary  looked  at  her  brother,  who  seemed 
very  sullen  and  wretched ;  but  soon  forgetting  her  resentment,  she 
threw  both  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.  The  poor 
boy,  wholly  unprepared  for  such  a  return,  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears.  The  gentle  sister,  taking  the  corner  of  her  apron,  and  wij>- 
ing  away  his  tears,  sought  to  comfort  him  by  saying,  "don't  cry, 
George,  you  did  n't  hurt  me  much ; "  but  he  only  cried  the  harder.' 

Of  the  same  tenor  is  tJie  story  of  William  Ladd  and  his  neigh- 
bor. "  I  had,"  said  he,  "  a  fine  field  of  grain  growing  upon  an 
out-farm  at  some  distance  from  the  homestead.  Whenever  I  rode 
by,  I  saw  my  neighbor  Pulsifer's  sheep  in  the  lot,  destroying  my 
hopes  of  a  harvest.  These  sheep  were  of  the  gaunt,  long-legged 
kind,  active  as  spaniels ;  they  coiild  spring  over  the  highest  fence. 


349  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  17 

and  no  partition-wall  could  keep  them  out.  I  complained  to  neigh- 
bor Pulsifer  about  them,  and  sent  frequent  messages,  but  all  with- 
out avail.  Perhaps  they  would  be  kept  out  for  a  day  or  two ;  but 
the  legs  of  his  sheep  were  long,  and  my  grain  rather  more  tempt- 
ing than  the  adjoining  pasture.  I  became  angry,  and  told  my  men 
to  set  the  dogs  on  them  ;  and  if  that  would  not  do,  I  would  pay 
them  if  they  would  shoot  the  sheep. 

"  I  rode  away  much  agitated,  for  I  was  not  so  much  of  a  peace 
man  then  as  I  am  now,  and  I  felt  literally  full  of  fight.  All  at 
once  a  light  flashed  in  upon  me.  I  asked  myself,  would  it  not 
be  well  for  you  to  try  in  your  own  conduct  the  peace  principle  you 
are  preaching  to  others  7  I  thought  it  all  over,  and  settled  down 
my  mind  as  to  the  best  course  to  be  pursued. 

"  The  next  day  I  rode  over  to  see  neighbor  Puhsifer.  I  found 
him  chopping  wood  at  his  door.  '  Good  morning,  neighbor.'  No 
answer.  '  Good  morning,'  I  repeated.  He  gave  a  kind  of  grunt 
like  a  hog,  without  looking  up.  '  I  came,'  continued  I,  '  to  see 
about  the  sheep.'  At  this  he  threw  down  his  axe,  and  exclaimed, 
in  a  most  angry  manner,  '  now  aren't  you  a  pretty  neighbor,  to 
tell  your  men  to  kill  my  sheep  ?  I  heard  of  it — a  rich  man  like 
you  to  shoot  a  poor  man's  sheep  ! ' 

" '  I  was  wrong,  neighbor,'  said  I ;  '  but  it  wont  do  to  let  your 
sheep  eat  up  all  that  grain  ;  so  I  came  over  to  say  that  I  would 
take  your  sheep  to  my  homestead  pasture,  and  put  them  in  with 
mine,  and  in  the  fall  you  may  take  them  back,  and  if  any  one  is 
missing,  you  may  take  your  pick  out  of  my  whole  flock.' 

"  Pulsifer  looked  confounded — he  did  not  know  how  to  take  me. 
At  last  he  stammered  out,  '  now,  Squire^  are  you  in  earnest  ? ' 
'  Certainly  I  am,'  I  answered ;  '  it  is  better  for  me  to  feed  your 
sheep  in  my  pasture  on  grass,  than  to  feed  them  here  on  grain  ; 
and  I  see  the  fence  can't  keep  them  out.' 

"  After  a  moment's  silence — '  the  sheep  shan't  trouble  you  any 
more,'  exclaimed  Pulsifer.  '  I  will  fetter  them  all.  But  Pll  let 
you  know  that  when  any  man  talks  of  shooting,  I  can  shoot  too, 
and  when  they  are  kind  and  neighborly,  I  can  be  kind  too.'  The 
sheep  never  again  trespassed  on  my  lot.  And  my  friends,"  he 
would  continue,  addressing  the  audience,  "  remember  tliat  when 
you  talk  of  injuring  your  neighbors,  they  will  talk  of  injuring  you. 
When  nations  threaten  to  fight,  other  nations  will  be  ready  too. 
Love  will  beget  love ;  a  wish  to  be  at  peace,  will  keep  you  in 
peace.     You  can  overcome  evil  only  with  good." 

Even  savages  feel  the  charm  of  this  principle.  About  the  year 
1812,  Indiana  was  the  scene  of  Indian  hostilities ;  but  the  Shakers, 
though  without  forts  or  arms,  lived  in  perfect  safety  while  the  work 
of  blood  and  fire  was  going  on  all  around  them.  '  Why,'  said  the 
whites  afterwards  to  one  of  the  Indian  chiefs,  '  why  did  you  not 
attack  the  Shakers  as  well  as  others  ? '  "  What ! "  exclaimed  the 
savage,  "  we  warriors  attack  a  peaceable  people  \  We  fight  those 
who  wont  fight  us  !  Never ;  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  hurt  such  a 
people." 


18  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES  350 

A  family  of  Quakers  from  Pennsylvania  settled  at  the  west  in  a 
remote  place,  then  exposed  to  savage  incursions.  They  had  not 
been  there  long  before  a  party  of  Indians,  panting  for  blood,  started 
on  one  of  their  terrible  excursions  against  the  whites,  and  passed 
in  the  direction  of  the  Quaker's  abode  ;  but,  though  disposed  at 
first  to  assail  him  and  his  family  as  enemies,  they  were  received 
with  such  open-hearted  confidence,  and  treated  with  such  cordiality 
and  kindness,  as  completely  disarmed  them  of  their  purpose.  They 
came  fortli,  not  against  such  persons,  but  against  their  enemies. 
They  thirsted  for  the  blood  of  those  who  had  injured  them  ;  but 
these  children  of  peace,  unarmed  and  entirely  defencejess,  met 
them  only  with  accents  of  love,  and  deeds  of  kindness.  It  was 
not  in  the  heart  even  of  a  savage  to  harm  them  ;  and,  on  leaving 
the  Quaker's  house,  tlie  Indians  took  a  white  feather,  and  stuck  it 
over  th^  door,  to  designate  the  place  as  a  sanctuary  not  to  be 
harmed  by  their  brethren  in  arms.  Nor  was  it  harmed.  The  war 
raged  all  around  it ;  tlie  forest  echoed  often  to  the  Indian's  yell, 
and  many  a  white  man's  hearth  was  drenched  in  his  own  blood  ; 
but  over  the  Quaker's  humble  abode  gently  waved  the  white 
feather  of  peace,  and  beneath  it  his  family  slept  without  harm  or 
fear. 

The  early  history  of  America  is  replete  with  such  instances  of 
personal  preservation.  Most  horrible  was  the  Indian's  mode  of 
wreaking  vengeance  on  his  foes.  By  day  he  lurked  in  ambush 
along  their  path,  and  shot  them  down  without  warning ;  at  night 
he  prowled  around  their  pillow  of  repose,  kindled  the  flames  over 
their  heads,  and  made  their  own  dwelling  their  funeral  pile.  From 
such  dangers  most  of  the  inhabitants  sought  safety  by  retiring  to 
fortified  places  ;  and  persons,  when  compelled  to  pass  beyond  the 
range  of  such  protection,  provided  themselves  with  arms  for  their 
defence.  Such  was  the  general  policy  ;  but  the  Quakers,  true  to 
their  pacific  principles,  would  neither  arm  themselves,  nor  retire  to 
garrisons.  While  their  neighbors  were  flying  to  forts  for  safety, 
they  remained  openly  in  the  country,  and  pursued  their  ordinary 
occupations  at  home,  or  in  the  field,  without  a  weapon  for  annoy- 
ance or  defence.  Were  they  butchered  in  cold  blood  ?  'No  ;  they 
all  escaped  unhurt  except  three.  And  how  came  these  to  fall 
victims?  They  abandoned  their  pacific  principles,  and  then  were 
killed,  not  as  men  of  peace,  but  solely  as  men  of  blood.  Two  were 
men  who  had  been  wont  to  pursue  their  labors  in  the  open  field 
without  weapons,  in  simple  reliance  on  God ;  but,  being  seized 
with  fear,  they  took  weapons  for  their  defence,  and  the  Indians 
who  had  hitherto  spared  them  as  peace-men,  now  regarded  them 
as  enemies,  and  shot  them.  The  third  victim  was  a  widow  who 
refused  for  a  time  the  proflTered  shelter  of  a  garrison,  and  continued 
with  her  children  safe  in  her  defenceless  habitation ;  but,  impelled 
at  length  by  "  a  slavish  fear,"  she  took  refuge  by  night  in  a  fort 
not  far  from  her  dwelling,  and  soon  after  the  Indians  waylaid  and 
killed  her. 

The  eflBcacy  of  peace  principles,  however,  is  not  restricted  to 
Quakers,  but  extends  to  all  of  like  faith  and  practice.     A  multi- 


351  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  19 

tude  of  proofs  might  be  gathered  from  Indian  history ;  but  we  will 
content  ourselves  with  a  single  one  from  the  banks  of  the  Piscat- 
aqua.  Several  villages  early  began  to  rise  there  as  far  up  as  what 
is  now  Dover,  N.  H.  Their  intercourse  with  the  tawny  sons  of 
the  forest  was  not  always  that  of  enemies  ;  the  latter  often  came 
forth  to  visit  their  white  brethren  on  terms  of  friendship  ;  and,  on 
one  of  those  occasions,  a  squaw,  with  her  infant  suddenly  taken 
ill,  sought  a  place  for  shelter  and  repose.  A  widow,  alone  with 
her  family  on  the  outskirts  of  the  settlement,  kindly  welcomed 
them  to  her  humble  abode,  nursed  the  sick  babe  as  her  OAvn,  and, 
when  it  was  restored  to  health,  sent  them  on  their  way  with  her 
blessing.  That  deed  of  kindness  was  not  lost.  Years  rolled  on  ; 
but  the  Indian  did  not  forget  his  humble  benefactor.  Strife  arose 
between  the  two  races ;  and  the  Indians  prepared  to  empty  upon 
the  place  the  vials  of  their  wrath.  They  surrounded  it  at  dead  of 
night ;  but,  before  striking  a  single  blow,  they  sought  the  poor 
widow's  house,  and  placed  there  a  guard,  lest  some  of  their  war- 
riors should,  in  their  ignorance  or  heedless  rage,  wreak  upon  their 
friend  a  vengeance  aimed  only  at  their  foes.  This  done,  they 
went  to  their  work  of  fire  and  blood  ;  nor  did  they  stay  their  hand 
until  the  settlement  was  in  flames,  and  most  of  its  inhabitants,  save 
the  widow  and  her  children,  were  butchered,  or  made  captives. 

Such  is  the  power  of  peace  over  savages ;  can  it  be  less  influen- 
tial over  civilized  men  ?  To  this  we  might  quote  many  an  ansAver 
from  the  ferocious  and  terrible  rebellion  of  1798  in  Ireland.  Sel- 
dom has  there  been  warfare  more  savage,  passions  more  fierce,  or 
the  spirit  of  revenge  more  blood-thirsty  and  remorseless.  It  was 
a  fiendish  conflict,  the  death-struggle  of  neighbor  against  neigh- 
bor, of  brother  against  brother.  The  gangrene  pervaded  the  whole 
community  ;  every  body  was  required  to  take  sides,  and  none  al- 
lowed in  safety  to  remain  neutral.  Yet  the  Quakers,  firm  in  their 
faith,  did  continue  neutral  and  pacific,  friends  to  all,  enemies  to 
none.  Anticipating  the  storm,  they  had  prepared  to  meet  it  by 
girding  themselves  anew  with  their  principles,  by  destroying  what- 
ever weapons  they  chanced  to  have  in  their  possession,  and  by 
exhorting  each  other  to  stand  fast  in  their  peaceful  faith.  The 
storm  came,  and  Ireland  was  drenched  in  fraternal  blood.  The 
Quakers,  in  going  to  their  places  of  worship,  were  sometimes 
obliged  to  pass  over  fields  of  dead  bodies ;  and  repeatedly  did 
each  pa;'ty  in  turn  threaten  to  burn  their  meeting-houses  over  their 
heads,  or  butcher  them  in  their  own  homes.  The  bloody  strife 
raged  week  after  week  all  around  them,  and  up  to  their  very  doors ; 
their  own  domestics  were  instigated  to  destroy  them  ;  their  houses 
were  entered  by  exasperated  soldiers  on  purpose  to  kill  them ;  and 
often  did  it  seem  well  nigh  impossible  for  them  to  escape  a  general 
massacre.  Still  the  Quakers  trusted  in  God,  and  were  safe.  Per- 
sisting in  their  ordinary  attendance  on  his  worship,  in  their  refusal 
to  take  any  part  in  the  contest,  and  in  their  habits  of  equal  kindness 
to  sufferers  from  both  factions,  they  came  ere  long  to  be  respected, 
trusted  and  loved  by  all,  and  their  houses  became  places  of  refuge 
to  fugitives  from  each  party.   Their  faith  made  them  at  length  the 


^'  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  992 

mediators,  the  guardian  angels  of  a  warring  community ;  and  the 
badge  of  a  Quaker,  regarded  at  first  as  a  sure  precursor  of  death 
or  violence,  came  in  the  end  to  be  a  sort  of  talisman,  a  passport  to 
safety  and  universal  confidence.  Their  principles  proved,  under 
God,  a  far  better  protection  than  the  sword ;  for  they  lost  only  one 
of  their  number,  and  that  one  a  victim,  not  to  his  principles  of 
peace,  but  to  his  own  folly  in  renouncing  them.  Losing  his  con- 
fidence in  their  pow^r  to  protect,  he  dressed  himself  in  regimen- 
tals for  safety  ;  and  then  he  was  shot,  not  as  a  peace-man,  but  as 
a  man  of  blood.  How  strongly  does  such  an  exception  confirm 
the  general  rule ! 

The  same  principles  insured  equal  protection  to  others  during 
the  Irish  Rebellion.  The  rebels,  who  had  long  meditated  an  at- 
tack upon  the  Moravian  settlement  at  Grace  Hill,  marched  at 
length  a  large  body  of  men  into  the  town ;  but  the  Moravians,  true 
to  their  principles,  offered  no  resistance,  and  no  means  of  violent 
defence.  God  was  their  trust  Assembled  in  their  chapel,  they 
besought  him  to  be  j^eir  shield  in  that  hour  of  their  danger  ;  and 
he  gave  at  once  a  most  signal  answer  to  their  prayers.  The  in- 
furiated soldiers  were  astonished  at  a  sight  so  contrary  to  their  ex- 
pectations ;  they  paused,  and  listened  to  the  devotions  of  their  in- 
tended victims ;  they  heard  the  Moravians  imploring  mercy  for 
their  expected  murderers;  such  an  exhibition  of  the  Christian 
spirit,  of  the  peace  principle,  disarmed  their  rage ;  and,  after  linger- 
ing in  the  streets  a  day  and  a  night,  they  turned  and  marched  off 
without  killing  or  injuring  a  single  individual. 

The  principle,  too,  is  just  as  safe  for  communities  as  for  individ- 
uals. "  I  have  read,"  says  Mrs.  Chapman,  "  of  a  certain  regiment 
ordered  to  march  into  a  small  town,  (in  the  Tyrol,  1  think,)  and 
take  it  It  chanced  that  the  place  was  settled  by  a  colony  who 
believed  the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  proved  their  faith  by  works.  A 
courier  from  a  neighboring  village  informed  them  that  troops  were 
advancing  to  take  the  town.  They  quietly  answered,  '  if  they 
will  take  it,  they  must'  Soldiers  soon  came,  riding  in  with  colors 
flying,  and  fifes  piping  their  shrill  defiance.  They  looked  round 
for  an  enemy,  and  saw  the  farmer  at  his  plough,  the  blacksmith  at 
his  anvil,  and  the  women  at  their  churns  and  spinning-wheels. 
Babies  crowded  to  hear  the  music,  and  boys  ran  out  to  see  the  pretty 
trainers,  with  feathers  and  bright  buttons,  '  the  harlequins  of  the 
nineteenth  century.'  Of  course  none  of  these  were  in  a  proper 
position  to  be  shot  at  '  Where  are  your  soldiers  ? '  they  asked. 
*  We  have  none,'  was  the  brief  reply.  '  But  we  have  come  to 
take  the  town.'  '  Well,  friends,  it  lies  before  you.'  '  But  is  there 
nobody  here  to  fight  ? '  *  No,  we  are  all  Christians.'  Here  was 
an  emergency  altogether  unprovided  for  by  the  military  schools. 
This  was  a  sort  of  resistance  which  no  bullet  could  hit ;  a  for- 
tress perfectly  bomb-proof  The  commander  was  perplexed.  '  If 
there  is  nobody  to  fight  with,  of  course  we  can't  fight,'  said  he. 
'  It  is  impossible  to  take  such  a  town  as  this.'  So  he  ordered  the 
horses'  heads  to  be  turned  about,  and  they  carried  the  human  ani- 
mals out  of  the  village,  as  guiltless  as  they  entered,  and  perchance 


353  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  21 

somewhat  wiser.  This  experiment  on  a  small  scale  indicates  how 
easy  it  would  be  to  dispense  with  armies  and  navies,  if  men  only 
had  faith  in  the  religion  they  profess  to  believe." 

Even  paganism  has  exemplified,  in  some  decree,  the  beauty  and 
power  of  this  principle.  The  island  of  Loo-Choo  in  the  Chinese 
sea,  was  visited  in  1816  by  the  two  war-ships  which  took  Lord 
Amherst  to  China  as  ambassador  from  England.  In  order  to  pro- 
cure supplies,  and  make  some  repairs,  they  anchored  in  a  harbor 
of  the  island ;  and  many  of  the  natives  immediately  came  on 
board,  to  whom  the  Captain,  through  an  interpreter,  stated  whence 
the  ships  came,  on  what  embassy  sent,  and  why  they  had  anchored 
there.  Learning  what  things  were  wanted,  they  began  forthwith 
to  furnish  them  in  great  abundance,  which  they  continued  for  six 
weeks,  and  then  refused  the  slightest  compensation. 

Some  of  the  crew  being  sick,  were  taken  ashore  to  a  temple  as 
a  temporary  hospital,  and  there  treated  with  the  utmost  tenderness. 
'  Nothing,'  says  Capt.  H.,  *  could  be  more  interesting  than  to  ob- 
serve the  care  which  the  natives  took  of  our  sick  men.  They 
crowded  round  to  assist  them  out  of  the  boats,  carried  those  con- 
fined to  their  beds,  all  the  way  from  the  beach  to  the  hospital,  and 
gently  supported  those  who  had  strength  barely  to  walk  ;  and 
when  safely  lodged,  they  were  immediately  supplied  with  eggs, 
milk,  fowls  and  vegetables  already  cooked. 

'  I  was  absent  awhile  on  a  survey  of  the  coast ;  and  on  my  re- 
turn I  was  glad  to  find  the  sick  men  much  recovered,  and  very 
grateful  for  the  kindness  of  the  natives.  The  best  provisions 
had  been  brought  to  them  every  day  ;  and  when  disposed  to  take 
exercise,  they  were  sure  to  be  accompanied  by  some  of  the  natives, 
who  helped  them  up  the  steep  side  of  the  hill  behind  the  hospital, 
to  a  grassy  spot  on  the  summit,  and  having  lighted  pipes  for  them, 
remained  patiently  till  the  invalids  wished  to  return.  Never  were 
sailors  so  caressed ;  and  it  was  pleasing  to  observe  our  hardy 
seamen  so  much  softened,  that  they  laid  aside  for  the  time  all  the 
habitual  roughness  of  their  manners,  and  without  any  interference 
of  the  officers,  treated  the  natives  with  the  greatest  consideration. 
Indeed,  from  the  first  hour  of  our  visit,  their  amiable  disposition 
and  gentle  manners  won  the  good  will  of  all ;  and,  by  a  sort  of 
tacit,  spontaneous  understanding,  every  one  of  our  men  treated 
them  not  only  with  kindness,  but  with  entire  confidence.  The 
proud,  haughty  feeling  of  national  superiority,  so  common  among 
British  seamen,  was  here  completely  subdued  by  the  kind  and 
gentle  manners  of  this  pacific  people.  Though  continually  inter- 
mingled, no  quarrel  or  complaint  occurred  during  all  our  stay  ;  but 
each  succeeding  day  seemed  to  increase  our  mutual  cordiality  and 
friendship, 

'  We  also  inquired  into  their  government ;  and  while  partaking 
of  the  general  mildness,  we  deemed  it  highly  efficient  from  the 
great  order  always  maintained.  The  chiefs,  though  quite  decided 
in  giving  their  commands,  were  mild  in  manner  and  expression  ; 
and  the  people  always  obeyed  them  with  tl>e  greatest  alacrity  and 
cheerfulness.     Crimes  were  said  to  be  very  unfrequent ;  the  peo- 


25  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  364 

pie  went  entirely  unarmed ;  and  they  always  declared  that  they 
had  no  military  weapons.  We  looked  sharply  for  them,  but  could 
find  none.  Their  behavior  on  seeing  a  musket  fired,  showed  their 
ignorance  of  fire  rfhns  ;  and  they  invariably  denied  having  any 
knowledge  of  war  by  experience  or  tradition.' 

The  case  of  William  Penn,  however,  is  perhaps  the  fullest  and 
fairest  illustration  of  pacific  principles  in  their  bearing  on  the  in- 
tercourse of  nations.  His  colony,  though  an  appendage  to  Eng- 
land, was  to  the  Indians  an  independent  State.  They  knew  no 
power  above  or  beyond  tliat  of  Penn  himself;  and  they  treated  his 
colony  as  another  tribe  or  nation.  Their  king  had  himself  ex- 
pressly abandoned  these  Quakers  entirely  to  their  own  resources. 
"  What !  "  said  Charles  II.  to  Penn  on  the  eve  of  his  departure, 
"  venture  yourself  among  the  savages  of  North  America !  Why 
man,  what  security  have  you,  that  you  will  not  be  in  their  war- 
kettle  within  two  hours  after  setting  your  foot  on  their  shores  ?  " 
'  The  best  security  in  the  world,'  replied  the  man  of  peace.  "  I 
doubt  that,  friend  William ;  I  have  no  idea  of  any  security  against 
those  cannibals,  but  a  regiment  of  good  soldiers  with  their  mus- 
kets and  bayonets;  and  I  tell  you  before  hand,  that,  with  all  my 
good  will  for  you  and  your  family,  to  whom  I  am  under  obliga- 
tions, I  will  not  send  a  single  soldier  with  you."  '  I  want  none  of 
thy  soldiers  ;  I  depend  on  something  better.'  "  Better !  on  what  ?  " 
'  On  the  Indians  Uicmselves,  on  their  moral  sense,  and  the  prom- 
ised protection  of  God.' 

Such  was  the  reliance  of  Penn ;  and  a  single  fact  will  show 
his  mode  of  dealing  with  the  Indians.  Learning  that  there  was 
some  very  choice  land  not  included  in  his  first  purchase,  he  sent 
to  inquire  of  the  Indians  if  they  would  sell  it.  They  replied  they 
did  not  wish  to  part  with  the  land  where  their  fathers  were  sleep- 
ing, but  to  please  him,  they  would  sell  him  a  part  of  it  Accord- 
ingly, they  agreed,  for  a  certain  quantity  of  English  goods,  to  sell 
as  much  land  as  one  of  his  young  men  could  walk  round  in  a  day ; 
but  this  mode  of  measurement,  though  their  own  choice,  did  not 
in  the  end  satisfy  the  Indians,  since  the  young  Englishman, 
chosen  to  walk  off  the  tract,  walked  much  faster  and  farther  than 
they  expected.  Penn  observed  their  dissatisfaction,  and  inquired 
the  cause.  "  The  walker  cheat  us."  '  Ah !  how  can  that  be  ? 
Did  you  not  yourselves  choose  to  have  the  land  measured  in  this 
way  ? '  "  Yes,"  said  the  Indians,  "  but  white  brother  make  too 
big  walk."  Some  of  Penn's  commissioners,  waxing  warm,  said  the 
bargain  was  a  fair  one,  and  insisted  that  the  Indians  ought  to  abide 
by  it,  and,  if  they  would  not,  should  be  compelled  to  do  so.  '  Com- 
pelled ! '  exclaimed  Penn,  '  how  can  you  compel  them  without 
bloodshed  ?  Don't  you  see  this  looks  to  murder  ? '  Then  turning 
with  a  benignant  smile  to  the  Indians,  he  said,  'well,  brothers, 
if  you  have  given  us  too  much  land  for  the  goods  first  agreed  on, 
how  much  more  will  satisfy  you  ? '  This  proposal  gratified  thera 
much  ;  and  they  mentioned  the  quantity  of  cloth,  and  number  of 
fish-hooks,  with  which  they  Would  be  satisfied.    These  were  cheer- 


355  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  28 

fully  given ;  and  the  Indians  shaking  hands  with  Penn,  went 
away  smiling.  After  they  were  gone,  the  governor,  looking  round 
on  his  friends,  exclaimed,  '  Oh,  how  sweet  a  thing  is  charity ! 
Some  of  you  just  now  spoke  of  compelling  these  poor  creatures  to 
stick  to  their  bargain,  that  is,  in  plain  English,  to  fight  and  kill 
them,  and  all  about  a  little  piece  of  land  ! ' 

Such  was  the  policy  of  Penn.  He  resolved  to  treat  the  Indians 
as  the  gospel  requires,  and  then  rely  for  safety  on  the  better  prin- 
ciples of  their  nature,  and  the  promises  of  God.  He  brought  no 
cannon ;  he  built  no  forts ;  nor  was  there  at  his  command  a  single 
musket  or  sword  to  assail  or  repulse  an  enemy.  He  treated  none 
as  enemies,  but  all  as  friends,  and  threw  himself,  with  open-hearted 
confidence,  upon  the  red  man's  generosity  and  justice.  He  met 
the  rude  sons  of  tlie  forest  as  brethren ;  his  kindness  disarmed  their 
enmity,  and  lulled  their  suspicions  and  fears  asleep  ;  he  won  their 
perfect  confidence  in  his  friendship  ;  and,  sitting  down  with  them 
on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  they  smoked  together  the  calumet 
of  peace  and  love. 

Such  was  the  course  of  William  Penn  ;  and  what  w^s  the  re- 
sult ?  In  the  midst  of  the  most  warlike  tribes  on  this  continent, 
the  Quakers  lived  in  safety,  while  all  the  other  colonies,  acting  on 
the  war-policy  of  armed  defence,  were  involved  almost  incessantly 
in  bloody  conflicts  with  the  Indians.  Shall  we  ascribe  this  to  the 
personal  tact  of  William  Penn  ?  Shrewd  he  doubtless  was  ;  but 
the  success  of  his  policy  was  owing  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  to  its 
pacific  character.  Penn  was  only  an  embodiment  of  his  principles, 
and  the  efficacy  of  these  is  strikingly  exhibited  in  the  fact  that 
Pennsylvania,  during  all  the  seventy  years  of  her  peace  policy,  re- 
mained without  harm  from  the  Indians,  but  suffered,  as  soon  as 
she  changed  that  policy,  the  same  calamities  with  the  other  col- 
onies. 

Such,  then,  is  the  efficacy  of  pacific  principles.  Not  that  they, 
or  any  thing  else,  can  prevent  all  evil  in  a  world  like  ours  ;  but, 
when  righMy  applied,  they  are  a  far  surer  protection  than  the 
sword.  We  doubt  whether  they  have  ever  been  put  to  a  fair  test 
without  proving  successful ;  and  any  people  who  shall  dare  to  trust 
these  principles,  will  find  them  safe.  Who  seemed  less  likely 
than  American  Indians  to  feel  their  power  ?  Yet  how  readily  did 
they  lay  their  tomahawks  and  scalping-knives  at  the  feet  of  Penn, 
and  humbly  apologize  for  killing  the  only  Quakers  they  ever  at- 
tacked. '  The  men  carried  arms,'  said  they ;  '  we  supposed  them 
to  be  fighters,  and  thought  they  pretended  to  be  Quakers,  merely 
because  they  were  cowards.'  So  said  the  murderers  of  Lyman 
and  Munson.  '  They  came  with  arms  in  their  hands,  and  we  took 
them  for  enemies.  Had  we  known  they  were  men  of  God,  come 
to  do  us  good,  we  would  have  done  them  no  harm.'  There  is  no 
policy  so  safe  as  that  of  peace.  Let  any  people  abjure  all  war, 
and  proclaim  to  the  world  that  they  will  never  fight  under  any 
provocation,  but  will  be  ready  to  settle  all  difficulties  with  other 
nations  by  umpires  mutually  chosen ;  and  would  any  nation  attack 


2i  SAFETY    OF    PACIFIC    PRINCIPLES.  356 

such  a  people  ?  No  sooner  than  a  duellist  will  now  fight  a  woman 
or  a  child.  Would  not  any  nation  be  ashamed  of  an  act  so  mean, 
and  the  whole  world  cry  shame  upon  them,  and  brand  them  as  the 
basest  of  poltroons  and  assassins  ? 

'  But  experience  pleads  for  the  war-principle ;  all  nations  have 
hitlierto  acted  upon  it;  and  does  not  this  prove  its  necessity  ?' — 
No  more  than  the  extfent  and  long  continuance  of  paganism  prove 
that  to  be  necessary.  Men  have  tried  war  more  than  five  thousand 
years  ;  and  what  is  the  result  ?  A  world  covered  with  crime,  and 
drenched  in  blood  and  tears.  Could  any  policy  of  peace  have  led 
to  worse  results  ? 

'  But  would  you  have  no  means  of  defence  ? ' — Yes,  the  best  in 
the  world ;  such  as  God  himself  has  prescribed ;  such  as  Penn 
used  with  perfect,  glorious  success ;  such  as  every  fair  trial  has 
shown  to  be  far  more  effectual  than  any  weapons  of  war.  We 
plead  for  the  strictest  principles  of  peace,  not  only  because  they 
are  true,  but  also  because  they  are  the  best  security  both  for  indi- 
viduals and  for  nations. 

*  But  what  security  do  these  principles  aflTord  for  our  liberties 
and  rights  ? ' — The  best  possible  ;  incomparably  better  than  the 
sword  can  give.  Search  all  history,  and  you  will  find  war  to  have 
been  the  deadliest  foe  to  popular  freedom  and  rights.  True,  it  has 
been  alleged  to  have  secured  them  both  ;  but  far  more  truly  has  it 
ever  trampled  them  under  its  iron  hoof.  Peace  is  the  best,  if  not 
the  only  soil  for  the  sure  and  steady  growth  of  free  institutions ; 
and  one  century  of  universal,  unbroken  peace,  would  accomplish 
wonders  for  the  liberty  and  rights  of  mankind. 

'  But  will  nations  ever  act  on  the  strict  principles  of  peace  ? ' — 
Individuals  have,  and  nations  may ;  but  whether  they  will  or  not, 
time  alone  can  determine.     We-believe  they  one  day  will,  for  God 
has  promised  they  shall ;  but  until  they  do,  surely  these  principles 
cannot  be  held  responsible  for  their  safety,  any  more  than  a  medi- 
cine can  cure  those  who  do  not  take  it.     If  all  nations  would  adopt 
them,  there  would  of  course  be  an  end  to  war,  and  the  fear  of  its 
evils.    We  cannot  flatter  ourselves  that  the  great  national  brother- 
hood of  Christendom,  or  any  of  its  members,  will  soon  come  fujjy 
into  these  views,  discarding  the  sword  as  tlie  arbiter  of  interna- 
tional disputes,  and  ceasing  from  all  war,  and  all  preparations  for 
war;  but  already  the  whole  civilized  world  are  gradually  approach- 
ing this  policy ;  and,  just  as  fast  as  they  do,  will  their  safety, 
well  as  their  general  prosperity  and  happiness,  be  correspond inglj 
increased.   No  fair-minded  man  will  now  deny  tliat  a  pacific  policy 
is  in  every  respect  the  best ;  and,  if  we  cannot  bring  all  nations^ 
or  any  one  of  them,  up  to  the  high  standard  of  the  gospel,  wc " 
would  fain  bring  them  as  near  to  it  as  we  can.     Our  utmost  effort 
will  doubtless  leave  tliem  much  below  that  standard ;  but  ever 
approximation  to  it  will  strongly  tend  to  msure  theit  peace,  and  to " 
promote  their  general  and  permanent  welfare. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XL.I. 

WAR-PRAYERS. 


It  is  not  more  strange  than  true,  that  war  has  been  treated  very 
much  as  a  religious  affair.  It  has  claimed  the  special  favor  of 
heaven ;  and  even  Christians,  scarcely  less  than  ancient  pagans, 
modern  savages,  or  the  terrible  war-men  of  the  North,  the  blood- 
thirsty devotees  of  Thor  and  Odin,  have  engaged  in  it  as  a  sacred 
work.  They  still  accompany  it  with  forms  of  devotion.  It  is 
preceded  by  a  season  of  general  fasting  and  prayer ;  chaplains  are 
sent  to  its  camps  and  its  battle-fields,  with  forms  of  supplication  to 
the  God  of  Peace  ;  the  whole  Christian  community  are  expected 
continually  to  remember  before  his  throne  its  tented  or  embattled 
hosts  ;  and  after  every  important  victory,  they  have  been  wont  to 
return  thanks  to  the  Father  of  all  for  success  in  the  butchery  of 
his  children. 

Such  is  the  practice  ;  but  is  it  right  ?  We  put  it  to  the  test  of 
no  extreme  or  radical  views  ;  but  is  it  consistent  with  the  lowest 
principles  of  peace,  with  any  possible  construction  of  the  gospel  ? 
Every  bodyTiow  condemns  war  as  wrong,  as  coming  only  from 
lusts,  or  sinful  passions ;  and  will  such  admissions  allow  us  still  to 
sanction  the  whole  custom  by  imploring  the  smiles  of  heaven  on 
its  deeds  of  vengeance,  and  returning  solemn  thanks  for  such  atro- 
cities and  horrors  as  are  crowded  into  every  considerable  victory  ? 

Let  us  see  how  it  strikes  most  men.  When  th^  influence  of 
Napoleon  led  to  a  proclamation  of  war  between  Sweden  and  Eng- 
land, an  additional  prayer  was  introduced,  as  usual,  into  the  church- 
service  of  Sweden,  to  call  down  wrath  and  ruin  on  her  enemies  ; 
but  some  Christians  in  Dalecarlin,  on  finding  this  war-prayer  thrust 
into  their  devotions,  very  naturally  asked,  "  Who  are  our  enemies  ? 
Against  whom  are  we  thus  to  pray  ? "  '  The  English.'  "  The 
English!"  exclaimed  those  simple-hearted  people;  "the  English! 
Impossible  !  They  sent  us  Bibles  ;  it  cannot  be  that  they  have  be- 
come our  enemies ;  we  cannot  pray  against  them."  Nor  did  they, 
but  successfully  petitioned  the  government  to  discontinue  the  war- 
prayer  in  their  section  of  Sweden. 

Nor  have  these  inconsistencies  escaped  the  notice  even  of  aliens 
or  enemies  to  Christianity.  Voltaire  ridicules  and  denounces  them 
with  the  bitterest  sarcasm  ;  Napoleon,  who  used  in  his  fits  of  mo- 
mentary candor  to  call  war  "  the  trade  of  barbarianaJ  and  to  say 
that  soldiers,  if  not  already  vicious,  should  be  made  so  in  order  to 
qualify  them  fully  for  their  work,  sternly  excluded  chaplains  and 
public  prayers  from  his  armies ;  Wellington  himself  once  said, 
that  '  men  of  nice  scruples  about  religion,  have  no  business  in  the 
army  or  navy  ;'  and  statesmen  of  our  own,  though  at  the  hazard 
of  being  branded  as  infidels,  have  objected  to  the  employment  of 

p.  T.       NO.   XLI. 


WAR-PRAYERS. 


»B8 


chaplains  among  our  soldiers,  on  the  ground  that  the  religion  they 
teach  is  incompatible  with  the  duties  of  war.  '  Ought  the  Chris- 
tian religion,'  they  ask,  'to  be  encouraged  in  our  army  or  navy? 
Does  it  afford  incentives  to  vigilance  and  energy  in  the  discharge 
of  their  engagements  to  the  government  ? '  If  we  were  living  under 
the  Jewish  dispensation,  where  the  law  was  "  an  eye  for  an  eye, 
and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,"  witli  some  propriety  might  we  employ 
Jewish  priests  ;  ay,  if  we  were  followers  of  the  later  Prophet  who 
enforced  his  religion  by  fire  and  sword,  we  might  very  properly 
have  chaplains  of  that  persuasion.  But  what  does  the  Christian 
religion  teach  ?  Humble,  entire  submission  to  every  species  of 
indignity  and  wrong.  What  does  its  very  Founder  say  ?  "  Resist 
not  evil ;  but  M'hosoever  shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  turn 
to  him  the  other  also."  Such  is  the  gospel ;  but  the  doctrine  is 
incompatible  with  a  military  establishment.  What  is  the  duty  of 
a  chaplain  ?  To  imbue  the  soldiers  and  sailors  with  tlie  spirit  of 
the  Christian  religion.  What  would  be  the  result  ?  Instead  of 
firing  them  with  zeal,  with  energy,  with  revenge,  it  is  to  tell  them, 
*  humbly  submit ;  receive  whatever  indignity  may  be  offered,  and, 
though  tripled  upon  you,  make  no  resistance.' 

War-prayers,  if  they  mean  any  thing,  must  certainly  give  to 
war  our  sanction  and  support ;  but  can  we  consistently  do  this  ? 
Is  the  war-system  compatible  with  the  gospel  ?  If  not,  is  it  right 
for  Christians  to  countenance  and  uphol4  it  by  their  prayers  in  its 
favor  ?  If  war,  as  Edmund  Burke  says,  "  suspends  the  rules  of 
moral  obligation ;"  if,  as  Robert  Hall  declares,  '  it  includes  every 
vice,  and  excludes  almost  every  virtue  ;'  if,  according  to  Dr.  Scott, 
"  it  is  in  every  case  the  triumph  of  the  first  great  murderer,  the 
devil ;"  if  it  is,  according  to  Jeremy  Taylor,  '  as  contrary  to  the 
Christian  religion  as  cruelty  is  to  mercy,  tyranny  to  charity  ;'  can 
it  be  right  for  disciples  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  to  lend  such  a  cus- 
tom their  sanction  ? 

Let  us  examine  this  subject  for  ourselves.  What  does  the  gos- 
pel require  of  us?  'To  lay  aside  all  anger,  malice  and  re- 
venge ;  to  do  unto  others  as  we  would  that  they  should  do  unto 
us  ;  to  do  good  unto  all  men,  and  love  even  our  enemies  ;  to  feed 
them  when  hungry,  and  give  them  drink  when  thirsty ;  to  turn  the! 
other  cheek  to  the  smiter,  and  overcome  evil  only  with  good.' 
Thus  the  gospel  bids  us  do ;  but  every  one  of  these  principles  war 
contradicts  both  in  theory  and  practice.  Can  we  consistently  pray 
for  such  a  custom  ?  Our  prayers,  if  made  in  accordance  with  the 
pacific  principles  of  the  gospel,  would  oppose  war,  and  be  discarded 
by  all  war-makers  as  hostile  to  their  designs. 

Let  us  imagine  a  chaplain,  just  before  a  battle,  weaving  this  part 
of  the  gospel  into  his  prayer.  '  O  Lord,  whose  tender  mercies 
are  over  all  they  creatures,  teach  us  now  to  imitate  thine  own 
example,  who  givest  thy  sunshine  and  showers  alike  to  the  evil 
and  the  good.  Restrain  us  from  anger,  from  malice,  from  the 
slightest  degree  of  ill-will  towards  any  of  our  fellow-men ;  but 
may  we  love  them  all  as  we  do  ourselves,  and  do  unto  our  worst 


359  WAR-PRAYERS.  3 

enemies  all  the  good  in  our  power.  If  hungry,  may  we  feed  them ; 
if  thirsty,  may  we  give  them  drink ;  may  we  ever  do  unto  others 
what  we  would  fain  have  them  do  to  us  ;  nor  ever  may  we  forget 
thy  commands  to  follow  peace  with  all  men,  not  to  kill,  to  forgive 
as  we  would  wish  ourselves  to  be  forgiven,  to  recompense  to  no 
man  evil  for  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good.'  Are  such  the 
prayers  that  war-makers  want  of  their  chaplains  ?  Would  not  the 
spirit  of  such  a  prayer,  if  breathed  into  a  whole  army  before  battle, 
keep  every  sword  in  its  scabbard,  and  unnerve  every  arm  for  the 
work  of  blood  ? 

Conceive  a  prayer  in  the  spirit  of  war.  "  Push  hard  with  the 
bayonet ! "  says  the  Soldier's  Catechism.  "  Stab  once  ;  and  off 
with  your  foe  from  the  bayonet !  Stab  the  second  I  Stab  the  third !" 
Lord  Nelson  bade  his  midshipmen,  as  the  climax  of  his  instructions, 
'  obey  promptly  all  orders  from  their  superiors  without  inquiring 
whether  they  were  right  or  wrong,  and  hate  a  Frenchman  as  they 
would  the  devil  !^  An  American  general  once  said,  '  a  battle  is 
the  veriest  hell  upon  earth ;'  and  there  will  you  find  the  worst 
passions  in  fiercest  rage,  thousands  hating,  cursing  and  butchering 
one  another,  and  then  proceeding  to  plunder,  and  burn,  and  com- 
mit every  species  of  violence  and  outrage.  For  all  this,  if  for  any 
thing,  must  thfe  chaplain  pray  on  the  eve  of  battle : — '  O  Lord  of 
hosts,  smile  upon  thy  servants  now  marshalled  before  thee  for  the 
work  of  death.  Breathe  int^  them,  O  God  of  war,  the  spirit  of 
their  profession.  Let  them  for  the  time  forget  thy  prohibition  of 
old,  thou  shall  not  kill,  and  also  those  commands  of  thy  gospel 
which  bid  them  do  good  unto  all  men,  to  love  even  their  enemies, 
and  turn  the  either  cheek  to  the  smiter.  Thou  knowest.  Omnis- 
cient Father  of  all,  this  is  no  time  for  the  application  of  such 
principles ;  and  we  pray  thee  to  animate  them  with  sentiments 
more  appropriate  to  the  awful  duties  of  this  hour,  and  thus  prepare 
them  for  a  signal  and  glorious  triumph  over  their  enemies.  Fill 
them  with  the  spirit  of  war,  and  enable  them,  in  humble  reliance 
on  thee,  to  shoot,  and  stab,  and  trample  down  their  foes.  Nerve 
every  arm ;  direct  every  blow  ;  guide  every  sword,  every  bayonet, 
every  bullet  to  the  seat  of  life,  that  we  may  soon  reap  a  glorious 
harvest  of  death.  Thou  knowest,  O  God  most  holy,  that  our  ene- 
mies, murderers  in  heart,  if  not  in  deed,  all  deserve  the  damnation 
of  hell ;  and  we  beseech  thee  to  aid  us  in  sending  as  many  of  them 
as  possible  to  the  place  "  where  the  worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is 
not  quenched."  Fight  thou  for  us,  and  give  thy  servants  a  great 
victory,  for  which  all  the  people  shall  praise  thee.' 

Do  you  say,  that  such  prayers  are  found  in  the  Old  Testament  ? 
If  so,  still  it  would  not  follow  that  they  are  right  for  Christians. 
Jewish  Avars  were  expressly  enjoined  or  permitted  by  Jehovah  ;  the 
enemies  of  the  state  were  regarded  as  the  enemies  of  God,  the  real 
King  of  the  Jews  ;  those  who  uttered  the  war-prayers  recorded  in 
the  Bible,  were  inspired  men,  and  lived  under  a  dispensation 
which  allowed  many  things  now  forbidden  in  the  gospel.  Our 
case  is  in  all  these  respects  different  from  theirs  ;  and  tJiis  differ- 
ence entirely  neutralizes  the  argument. 


4  WAR-PRAYERS.  360 

*But  are  chaplains  of  no  use  in  the  army  and  navy?' — They 
certainly  may,  if  they  will,  do  good  by  preaching  other  parts  of  the 
gospel  ;  we  merely  say  they  cann6t,  consistently  with  their  office, 
enforce  its  pacific  principles.  If  exempted  from  all  responsibility 
for  the  war-system,  and  allowed  freely  to  preach  the  whole  truth 
of  God,  it  would  be  perfectly  proper  for  any  minister  to  do  this  on 
board  a  man-of-war,  in  a  camp,  or  on  a  field  of  battle.  He  might, 
if  he  would,  carry  the  gospel  to  the  very  gates  of  pandemonium ; 
but,  when  there,  he  should  not  shake  hands  with  the  devil,  or  any 
of  his  imps. 

'  Would  you,  then,  have  warriors  without  the  means  of  grace  ? 
Do  they  not  need  the  gospel  ? ' — Most  certainly  ;  but  it  may  be 
carried  to  them  without  encouraging  any  of  their  evil  deeds.  A 
gang  of  pirates  need  the  gospel ;  but  would  you  send  a  minister  to 
countenance  tlieir  piracy,  and  pray  for  their  success  ?  The  gospel 
is  needed  in  the  grog-shop  and  the  brothel ;  but  would  Paul  have 
acted  as  a  chaplain  to  either  ?  If  war  is  wrong,  its  chaplain,  em- 
ployed for  its  support,  must  countenance  what  the  gospel  con- 
demns ;  and  hence  his  very  office  is  unchristian.  For  \he  most 
part,  too,  it  is  a  mere  farce  ;  for  the  chaplain,  sworn  to  obey  his 
superior,  and  compelled  to  do  so,  or  quit  the  service,  is  seldom 
allowed  to  pursue  his  own  course.  He  can  neitller  preach,  nor 
pray,  nor  converse  with  the  soldiers,  except  by  permission  from 
his  commander,  generally  an  irreligious  man.  One  sermon  fifteen 
minutes  long  on  the  Sabbath,  a  short  burial  service  over  the  dead, 
now  and  then  a  prayer — how  much  good  can  this  do  ?  Yet  such, 
for  the  most  part,  are  war-chaplaincies,  little  better  than  mockeries, 
a  stealing  of  heaven's  mantle  to  cover  or  sanctify  deeds  of  hell. 

'How,  then,  shall  we  treat  war  ?' — Just  as  you  would  the  twin 
practice  of  duelling.  Should  two  duellists  meet  to  blow  out  each 
other's  brains,  would  you  appoint  chaplains  on  each  side  to  en- 
courage them,  and  ask  their  common  God  to  take  part  in  the 
bloody  affray  ?  Yet  might  you  pray  about  it.  Do  you  ask  how  ? 
Pray  against  the  whole  thing  as  utterly  wrong,  and  beseech  God 
to  hold  the  combatants  back  from  blood,  and  bring  them  to  a  fra- 
ternal adjustment,  and  the  custom  itself  to  a  speedy  end.  Thus, 
and  only  thus,  can  we  pray  aright  on  the  subject  of  war. 

Far  be  it  from  us  to  sit  in  judgment  on  chaplains  or  soldiers. 
We  doubt  not  there  have  been,  and  still  are,  real  Christians  among 
them.  We  judge  not  tlie  men ;  we  merely  condemn  their  husinejis 
as  unchristian.  So  the  gospel  itself  does ;  so  common  sense  is 
fast  coming  to  do  ;  and  posterity  will  yet  look  back,  and  wonder 
how  any  ambassador  or  disciple  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  could  ever 
have  lent  himself  to  such  a  libel  of  blood  on  his  peaceful  religion. 
Would  you  have  war  cease  ?  It  never  can  so  long  as  Christians 
support  it  by  their  prayers. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


1 


No.  XL.n. 
CLAIMS  OF  PEACE   ON  WOMEN. 


Women  are  so  much  inclined  to  excuse  themselves  from  the 
cause  of  peace,  that  I  would  fain  expostulate  with  them  on  the 
subject.  I  know  too  well  how  they  reason ;  for  I  once  had  the 
same  views  myself,  and  used  to  say,  as  most  of  my  sex  still  do, 
'  women  have  little  or  no  concern  with  this  matter.  We  are 
peaceable  enough  ourselves,  we  never  go  forth  to  battle  ;  nor  can 
we,  by  any  personal  share  in  the  government,  by  our  votes  at  the 
ballot-box,  or  our  voice  before  the  public,  affect  the  question  of 
peace  or  war  in  any  case.  It  belongs  entirely  to  men ;  and  we 
leave  it  in  their  hands.  They  alone  make  war ;  it  is  theirs,  if  they 
will,  to  secure  peace.' 

This  reasoning  is  quite  plausible ;  but,  having  myself  seen  its 
fallacy,  I  must  entreat  my  sisters  to  pause  and  reflect  before  they 
turn  their  backs  upon  a  cause  so  important  to  the  whole  human 
race.  Are  your  sympathies  in  their  behalf  less  tender,  less  gen- 
erous than  those  of  the  sterner  sex  ?  Care  you  not  for  their  weal 
or  their  wo  ?  War  has  ever  been  their  direst  scourge ;  and  are 
you  willing  to  fold  your  hands,  and  let  it  still  roll  its  deluge  of 
crime,  and  blood,  and  tears  over  myriads  after  myriads  of  future 
victims  ?  Feel  you  no  interest  in  the  race  to  which  you  belong  ; 
none  in  the  country  where  you  dwell ;  none  in  the  friends  endeared 
to  your  hearts,  in  your  husbands  and  your  children,  your  parents, 
brothers  and  sisters,  all  of  whom  are  exposed  to  the  evils  of  war  ? 
Tell  me  not  you  deplore  the  continuance  of  this  custom,  but  can 
do  nothing  to  restrain  its  ravages.  Woman  do  nothing !  Does 
she  exert  no  influence  with  God  or  man  ?  Have  you  no  access  by 
prayer  to  the  mercy-seat  of  Hiiii  who  hath  the  hearts  of  all  entirely 
in  his  hand  ?  Have  you  no  influence  over  the  men  around  you  ; 
none  over  your  father  or  your  brothers,  your  husband  or  your 
sons  ?  Have  you  no  pen  to  write,  no  tongu%to  speak,  no  example 
to  set,  no  spirit  of  your  own  to  infuse  into  those  around  you  ?  Have 
you  not  contributed,  do  you  not  still  contribute,  your  full  share  of 
influence  to  form  and  continue  the  wrong  public  sentiment  which 
alone  sustains  the  anti-christian,  barbarous  custom  of  war  even 
under  the  full  blaze  of  the  gospel  ?  <^an  you  not  change  this  in- 
fluence, and  throw  it  into  the  scale  of  peace  ? 

But  let  us  see  how  we  reason  on  kindred  topics.  Men  alone 
carried  on  the  slave-trade  ;  but  did  that  fact  hold  the  women  of 
England  back  from  efforts  for  the  abolition  of  that  accursed  traffic 
in  the  bodies  and  souls  of  men  ?  Did  the  wives,  the  mothers,  the 
daughters  of  our  father-land  say,  '  men,  not  women,  are  engaged  in 
this  nefarious  business,  and  they  alone  should  put  a  stop  to  it  ?  We 
have  no  -tjontrol  over  it,  no  responsibility  for  it ;  and,  though  we 

p.  T.       NO.  XXXVII. 


2  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  302 

grieve  to  think  of  tribe  warring  against  tribe  to  procure  victims 
for  the  slave-dealer,  of  village  after  village  wrapt  in  flames,  of 
wives  torn  from  their  husbands  forever,  parents  from  their  children, 
brothers  and  sisters  from  each  other,  carried  in  all  the  horrors  of 
the  middle  passage  across  the  Atlantic,  and  there  doomed,  with 
their  whole  posterity,  to  hopeless  bondage,  still  we  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  matter — we  are  women  ! ! '  Did  the  women  of  England 
reason  thus?  They  would  have  blushed  at  the  thought;  yet 
nearly  all  the  women  of  Christendom  are  now  reasoning  in  the 
same  way  respecting  a  custom  which  has  done  a  hundred-fold 
more  evil  than  the  slave-trade  ever  did. 

Bring  this  logic  nearer  home.  '  Women  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  cause  of  temperance ;  it  belongs  to  men  as  their  business 
alone.  Theirs  are  the  laws  which  protect  and  encourage  the  traffic 
in  ardent  spirits  ;  they  alone  make  and  sell  the  "  liquid  fire ;"  they 
are  the  chief  drunkards,  as  well  as  drunkard-makers ;  and,  since 
the  power  to  cure  the  evil  rests  with  them,  not  in  us,  we  leave  the 
matter  entirely  in  their  hands.'  Have  the  women  of  our  country 
reasoned  thus  on  the  subject  of  temperance  ?  Yet  is  the  argument 
just  as  applicable  to  intemperance  as  to  war ;  and  the  logic  that 
would  excuse  us  from  the  cause  of  peace,  would  have  kept  our 
mothers  from  the  cause  of  temperance.  We  all  thank  God  that 
their  hearts  taught  them  a  better  sort  of  logic ;  and  I  trust  tliat 
their  daughters  will  yet  apply  this  better  logic  to  a  cause  not  less 
important,  and  hereafter  array  themselves  as  resolutely  against 
war  as  they  have  against  intemperance. 

So  of  other  benevolent  enterprises.  Men  are  at  the  head  of 
tiiem  all ;  but  do  women  therefore  withhold  their  co-operation  ? 
Have  they  no  interest,  no  responsibility  in  such  movements  ?  Be- 
cause men  alone  publicly  preach  the  gospel,  and  hold  the  helm 
of  whatever  instrumentalities  are  employed  for  its  spread  over  the 
earth,  do  the  sisters  in  Clirist  excuse  themselves  from  all  share  in 
the  blessed  work  of  reclaiming  a  world  to  God  and  heaven  ?  Have 
they  no  money,  no  time,  no  talents,  no  learning,  no  zeal,  no  prayers 
to  give  ?  Woman  no  power  to  aid  such  enterprises !  Can  we  do 
nothing  to  diffuse  the  right  spirit ;  nothing  to  form  the  right  senti- 
ments and  habits ;  nothing  to  rally  "  tlie  sacramental  host  of  God's 
elect"  for  the  spiritual  conquest  of  the  world;  nothing  to  call 
down  his  blessing  upon  tlieir  efforts  for  the  rescue  of  perishing 
souls  from  sin  and  hell  ?  How  would  the  church  blush  to  hear  her 
daughters  saying  of  such  enterprises,  '  they  belong  to  men  ;  wo- 
men have  little,  if  any  thing,  to  do  with  them  ;  we  are  Christians 
ourselves,  and  that  is  enough  for  us  ! '  Yet  the  very  argument  that 
binds  women  to  the  support  of  these  causes,  would  rivet  upon 
every  one  of  them  the  claims  of  peace. 

But  let  us  look  at  the  subject  more  in  detail,  and  see  if  the  main 
arguments  for  peace  are  not  as  applicable  to  women  as  to  men. 
If  war  is  inconsistent  with  Christianity,  and  the  true  interests  of 
mankind ;  if  it  outrages  every  principle  of  our  religion,  and  all  the 
dictates  of  humanity ;  if  it  is  a  wholesale  destroyer  of  human  hap- 
piness for  time  and  eternity ;  if  it  wastes  so  vast  an  amount  of 


363  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  3 

property,  and  makes  such  fearful  havoc  of  human  life  ;  if  it  crip- 
ples commerce,  and  interrupts  agriculture,  and  sheds  a  blight  over 
every  department  of  gainful  industry,  and  thus  cuts  off  the  chief 
sources  of  a  nation's  wealth  and  comforts ;  if  it  plunders  and 
burns  cities,  and  lays  villages  in  ashes,  and  ravages  whole  pro- 
vinces and  empires  ;  if  it  reverses  for  the  time  all  Sie  laws  of  mo- 
rality, and  proclaims  in  their  stead  the  war-code  of  violence  and 
revenge ;  if  it  tramples  on  the  Sabbath,  revels  in  the  lowest  vices, 
and  instigates  to  the  foulest  crimes  ;  if  it  dishonors  our  religion 
before  the  whole  world,  neutralizes  its  efficacy  at  home,  and  ob- 
structs its  spread  and  triumph  over  the  globe  ;  if  it  ripens  its  own 
agents  for  perdition,  and  then  sends  them,  thousands  after  thou- 
sands, to  their  last  account  in  guilt  and  blood  ;  if  it  is  from  first 
to  last  a  tissue  of  sin  and  misery,  a  mass  of  abominations  and 
woes,  the  master-curse  of  our  race  from  Nimrod  to  the  present 
hour ;  has  not  woman  as  deep  an  interest  as  man,  in  removing 
such  an  evil  from  the  earth  ?  Does  not  every  one  of  these  argu- 
ments come  home  to  her  bosom  in  all  its  force  ? 

So  of  the  means  requisite  for  the  extinction  of  war ;  women  can 
use  post  of  these  as  well  as  men.  The  gospel  is  the  grand  rem- 
edy ;  and  cannot  woman  aid  in  applying  this  remedy  ?  War  has 
always  resulted  from  a  wrong  public  opinion  ;  that  opinion  must 
be  radically,  universally  changed ;  for  the  production  of  such  a 
change,  all  the  main-springs  of  influence  upon  the  popular  mind 
must  be  set  and  kept  at  work  ;  and  sure  I  am  that  woman's  hand 
can  touch  a  multitude  of  these  springs,  and  reach  the  great  mass 
of  minds  with  a  most  effective  influence.  We  can  abolish  war 
only  by  christianizing  public  sentiment  on  the  subject ;  but  never 
can  this  be  done  without  the  zealous,  omnipresent  co-operation  of 
Christian  women. 

I  wish  I  could  regard  my  sex  as  free  from  responsibility  for  this 
custom ;  but  I  fear  they  have  had  their  full  share,  if  not  in  its 
origin,  yet  in  its  continuance  and  support.  Their  admiration  of 
war-exploits,  their  presence  at  military  parades  and  balls,  their 
smiles  upon  the  warrior  in  his  harlequin  dress,  their  strange  yet 
well  known  preference  of  officers  as  companions  for  life,  all  con- 
spire to  throw  a  charm  around  this  trade  of  blood.  It  is  a  fact  I 
blush  to  record,  that  a  soldier's  coat  or  cockade  has  hitherto  been 
a  passport  to  the  favor  of  even  delicate,  accomplished  women ',  and 
so  notorious  has  this  partiality  been,  that  one  of  the  British  essay- 
ists relates  the  story  of  a  suitor,  rejected  in  the  plain  dress  of  a 
citizen,  but  afterwards  successful  in  the  gay,  fantastic  costume  of 
a  soldier,  which  he  assunfed  solely  for  the  purpose  of  winning  his 
way  to  her  heart.  Strange  fatuity !  yet  quite  as  common  as  strange. 
In  this  country,  we  see  comparatively  little  of  such  partiality  for 
warriors  ;  but  pass  through  the  old  world,  and  you  will  meet  it  at 
every  turn.  There  a  man  with  a  feather  in  his  cap,  an  epaulette 
on  his  shoulder,  and  a  sword  dangling  at  his  side,  is  a  favorite  in 
the  most  splendid  saloons,  in  the  most  courtly  circles.  Beauty, 
and  fashion,  and  gentility,  all  caress  the  gilded  man  of  blood.  The 
same  thing,  only  much  more  polished,  that  you  find  in  those  sav- 


4'  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  364 

age  countries,  where  a  suitor  estimates  his  claims  upon  the  heart 
of  his  mistress  by  the  number  of  human  scalps  or  skulls  he  lays  at 
her  feet !  And  do  we  see  nothing  like  this  in  our  own  country  ? 
Do  notj  our  women,  instead  of  starting  back  from  the  warrior  as 
from  the  hangman,  treat  him  with  special  respect  and  favor  ?  Does 
not  beauty's  lily  hand  embroider  banners  for  the  brave,  and  strew 
flowers  in  his  path  who  comes  in  triumph  through  the  blood  of 
husbands  and  sons,  fathers  and  brothers  ? 

Nor  has  woman  been  free  from  a  passion  even  for  the  stern 
realities  of  war.  "  Among  the  French  dead  on  the  field  of  Water- 
loo," says  an  English  traveller,  "  were  found  the  bodies  of  several 
Parisian  girk  who  had  gone  forth  with  their  paramours,  and  ac- 
tually fought  in  tlieir  company.  This,  I  understood,  was  no  un- 
common event  in  the  French  armies.  One  morning,  when  passing 
through  the  Palais  Royal  at  Paris,  I  saw  one  of  these  women 
dressed  in  military  style,  with  boots,  spurs  and  sabre ;  nor  did  any 
Frenchman  seem  to  consider  the  sight  a  strange  one."  Bulwer, 
the  chief  modem  eulogist  of  profligacy,  whose  rare  but  unenviable 
genius  transforms  prostitutes  into  heroines,  goes  so  far  as  to  say, 
3iat  "  never  have  the  French  armies  been  engaged  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Paris,  without  there  being  found  many  of  those  delicate 
and  fragile  females  whom  one  sees  in  the  saloons  of  Paris,  slain 
on  the  battle-field  to  which  they  had  been  led,  not  so  much  by  a 
violent  passion  for  their  lovers,  as  by  a  passion  for  that  action  and 
adventure  which  they  are  willing  to  seek  even  in  the  camp.  At 
the  battle  of  Jemappes,  Dumourier  had  for  his  aids-de-camp,  two 
of  the  most  delicate  and  accomplished  young  women  in  the  city," 
whom,  though  probably  the  general's  paramours,  Bulwer  has  the 
efirontery  to  characterize  as  "  equally  chaste  and  warlike  (! !) 
Those  modem  Camillas  felt  a  veneration  for  the  profession  of  arms, 
and  delighted  in  the  smoke  of  cannon,  and  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet." 

But  bad  women  are  not  the  only  female  abettors  of  war.  How 
often  do  we  find  one  of  the  first  ladies  in  a  village  or  a  city  se- 
lected to  present,  in  the  name  of  her  sex,  a  military  banner,  wrought 
by  their  hands,  to  some  company  of  volunteers,  and  seizing  the 
occasion  to  eulogize  M'ar  and  warriors.  During  the  progress  of 
our  petty  but  nefarious  war  in  Florida,  a-lady — so  the  papers  called 
her — tendered  a  flag,  with  a  speech  full  of  fire  and  fury,  to  the 
"  Muscogee  Blues,"  on  their  return  from  the  butchery  of  the  poor 
Seminoles,  lauding  to  the  skies  their  deeds  of  blood,  and  charging 
them  either  to  perish  beneath  the  folds  of  their  banner,  or  bring  it 
back  in  triumph  over  their  country's  foes.  During  the  war  of 
Texas  agamst  Mexico,  sustained  chiefly  by  mercenary  adventurers 
from  the  United  States,  a  young  fellow  went  from  Tennessee  to 
ioin  the  Texians ;  and  his  modier,  a  professed  follower  of  tlie 
Prince  of  Peace,  wrote  a  letter  to  encourage  him  in  his  bloody 
purpose,  praying  the  Almighty  to  crown  hmi  with  triumph,  but 
promising  him,  if  he  fell,  his  spirit  would  rise  from  the  gory  field 
to  realms  of  celestial  bliss,  and  receive,  as  a  reward  for  his  deeds 
of  blood,  a  croAvn  of  glory  from  the  God  of  Peace  ! !    Yet  was  that 


365  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  5 

letter  copied  into  religious  newspapers  all  over  the  land,  and  the 
writer  eulogized  as  a  woman  worthy  of  Sparta  in  its  hest  days  ! 

Such  has  been  the  agency  of  women  in!  sustaining  the  custom 
of  war ;  and  the  mischief  we  have  thus  done,  demands  of  us  a 
prompt  and  large  reparation.  We  can  repair  it,  if  we  will ;  we 
have,  in  some  respects,  peculiar  ability  to  serve  the  cause  of  peace ; 
and  hence  I  must  infer  its  special  claims  on  women. 

Let  us  look  at  their  character,  and  we  shall  find  both  nature  and 
education  peculiarly  fitting  them  for  such  a  service.  They  are 
rightly  termed  '  the  gentler  sex  ;'  their  sensibilities  are  quicker, 
deeper  than  those  of  men ;  they  know  better  how  to  sympathize 
in  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  others  ;  they  live  on  the  sweet  and  hal- 
lowed reciprocities  of  affection  ;  and  all  their  influence  comes  not 
from  terror  or  violence,  or  even  authority,  but  from  goodness,  from 
kind  offices,  from  the  resistless  power  of  love.  Theirs  is  the  em- 
pire of  the  heart.  They  wield  no  sword ;  they  threaten  no  vio- 
lence ;  they  claim  little  authority ;  they  seldom  insist  even  on 
their  acknowledged  rights ;  and  yet  do  they  exert  their  full 
share  of  influence  in  every  department  of  society,  and  silently 
move  unseen  the  hands  that  sway  the  world.  They  rule  by  obe- 
dience ;  they  conquer  by  retreat ;  they  triumph  by  submission ; 
they  carry  nearly  all  their  points  by  insisting  strenuously  on  none. 
Such  a  temper  is  the  spirit  of  peace  ;  such  a  character  an  embodi- 
ment of  its  principles,  and  the  result  a  decisive  illustration  of  their 
power.  Women,  if  not  disposed,  are  compelled  to  adopt  the  policy 
of  peace ;  and  their  general  success  proves  the  superiority  of  moral 
over  physical  power,  the  efficacy  of  returning  good  for  evil,  and 
giving  the  other  cheek  to^e  smiter.  Their  nature,  their  training, 
Sieir  condition  and  relations  in  life,  all  conspire  to  render  them 
peace-makers,  and  peculiarly  fit  them  for  co-operation  in  this  cause. 

Women  may,  if  they  will,  perform  for  this  cause  services  which 
no  others  can.  They  are  the  mothers  of  men,  and  leave  on  their 
children  an  indelible  impress  of  themselves.  The  hand  that  rocks 
the  cradle,  will  be  found  in  the  end  to  rule  the  world ;  and  the 
voice  which  whispers  in  the  infant  and  youthful  ear  lessons  of 
truth  or  error,  of  goodness  or  guilt,  will  yet  give  tone  to  morals, 
law  to  society,  and  character  to  the  whole  human  race.  We  must 
win  the  young  to  peace  ;  and  their  character  is  necessarily  mould- 
ed almost  entirely  by  female  hands.  As  mothers  and  teachers, 
they  are  the  chief  educators  of  mankind  ;  they  teach  the  first  ideas 
how  to  shoot,  the  first  feelings  where  to  flow ;  they  have  access  in 
childhood  to  every  mind  under  circumstances  peculiarly  favorable ; 
they  cast  the  mould  of  society  through  the  world  ;  they  may  under 
God  make  its  character  very  much  what  they  please  ;  and  would 
they  stamp  upon  every  young  mind  under  their  care  a  deep,  in- 
delible impress  of  peace,  war  must  of  necessity  come  to  an  end 
with  the  very  next  generation  thus  trained. 

But,  alas  !  look  at  the  usual  training  of  the  young  even  under 
pious  mothers.  What  are  the  first  toys  of  children  ?  Toys  of  war. 
What  pictures  do  they  most  frequently  see  and  admire  ?  Pictures 
of  war  and  warriors.    What  songs  did  they  once  use  most  com- 

7r 


6  CLAIMS    OfsPEACE    ON    WOMEN.  366 

monly  to  hear  ?  Songs  of  war.  Whom  are  they  still  taught  to 
hold  in  the  highest  admiration  ?  Heroes,  men  of  blood.  What 
books  are  now  most  generally,  most  eagerly  read  by  the  young  ? 
Tales,  real  or  fictitious,  of  war  and  warriors.  Do  parents,  even 
Christian  parents,  carefully  guard  their  own  children  against  the 
manifold  delusions  of  this  custom  ?  Alas  !  they  talk  before  their 
little  ones,  ere  the  dawn  of  reason  or  conscience,  about  the  glories 
of  war,  the  trade  of  human  butchery,  and  train  them,  with  scarce 
a  thought  of  what  they  are  doing,  to  look  upon  it  as  the  great 
theatie  of  man's  noblest  deeds !  The  surest  means  are  taken  to 
dazzle  and  delude  their  yojing  minds  in  its  favor.  When  a  com- 
pany of  gaily  dressed  soldiers  are  passing  through  the  street,  the 
children  who  are  old  enough,  go  forth  to  gaze  on  the  pageantry, 
and  the  mother  takes  even  her  babe  to  the  window  that  he  may 
inhale  with  his  first  breath  a  bewitching  fondness  for  war.  The 
glowing  canvass,  and  the  breathing  marble,  and  the  glittering 
sword,  and  tlie  gilded  epaulette,  and  the  waving  plume,  and  the 

Erancing  steed,  and  all  the  witchery  of  fife,  and  drum,  and  bugle- 
OTn,  are  sufiered  to  beguile  the  young  into  a  blind,  wild  admira- 
tion of  what,  if  seen  as  it  really  is,  they  would  regard  with  almost 
instinctive  disgust  or  abhorrence. 

The  evil  is  well  nigh  universal.  Even  pious  mothers  and  Chris- 
tian ministers  will  purchase — once  they  certainly  did — caps,  and 
feathers,  and  tin  swords,  and  wooden  guns,  for  their  own  sons,  and 
then  encourage  them  in  forming  little  companies  of  juvenile  volun- 
teers to  prepare  in  beardless  boyhood  for  the  trade  of  human 
butchery  !  Thus  have  Christians  themselves  been,  age  after  age, 
scattering  broad-cast  over  Christendom  the  veriest  seeds  of  war, 
and  then  started  back  aghast  to  see  every  where  springing  up 
such  a  harvest  of  death  as  lately  waved  in  blood  and  fire  all  over 
Europe.  But  no  wonder ;  for  how  came  Napoleon,  the  destroyer 
of  some  six  millions,  or  Alexander,  the  butcher  of  I  know  not  how 
many  millions,  to  be  such  blood-leeches  of  the  world  ?  Were  they 
horn  monsters  ?  No  more  than  Ave  ourselves.  How  then  did  they 
become  such  monsters  of  blood  ?  On  the  plat  of  green  before  his 
father's  house  in  Corsica,  Napoleon  in  his  boyhood  was  permitted 
to  go  forth  with  the  mock  accoutrements  of  war,  and  there  sport, 
day  after  day,  with  its  mock  mancBuvres,  until  his  boyish  bosom 
began  to  swell,  and  kindle,  and  glow  with  the  very  same  passions 
in  embryo  that  afterwards  sent  him,  like  a  comet  of  wrath,  over  a 
scathed  and  desolated  continent 

I  must  avow  it;  for  on  every  side  do  I  see  at  work  causes  not 
designed,  yet  fatally  calculated  to  nourish  the  war-spirit,  to  per- 
petuate the  war-system,  and  tlnis  pave  tlie  way  for  more  military 
Molochs,  for  other  deluges  of  blood.  Go  to  many  a  toy  shop,  kept 
perhaps  by  Christians  themselves ;  and  what  will  you  there  find  ? 
A  whole  cart-load  of  war  toys — drums,  and  guns,  and  swords,  and 
rude  busts  of  warriors,  and  entire  platoons  of  mounted  horsemen. 
or  armed  footmen,  all  painted  and  gilded  to  dazzle  the  minds  of 
children  into  a  premature,  unnatural  fondness  for  war.  Go  to  the 
houses  of  Christians ;  and  will  you  there  find  no  statues  or  portraits 


367  CLAIMS    OF   PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  t 

of  ancient  or  modern  warriors,  no  pictures  of  battles  or  other  war- 
Bcenes  ?  Almost  the  only  pictures  I  ever  saw  in  my  childhood ; 
and,  should  you  go  through  the  land,  you  would,  I  fear,  find  a 
hundred  or  a  thousand  portraits  of  Napoleon  to  one  of  such  a  man 
as  Brainard,  Schwartz  or  Howard. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  this  custom  still  continues ;  and  never 
can  it  cease  so  long  as  pious  mothers  persist  in  thus  training  their 
own  children  to  a  love  of  war.  It  is  all  wrong,  utterly  wrong ; 
and  I  would  to  God  I  could  peal  a  note  of  warning  and  remon- 
strance in  the  ear  of  all  the  mothers  in  Christendom.  I  would  say, 
guard  your  children  against  the  manifold  delusions  of  war,  and  let 
them  sport  with  no  more  of  its  toys,  and  listen  to  no  more  of  its 
songs,  and  gaze  at  no  more  of  its  pictures  or  glittering  armor,  and 
be  present  at  none  of  its  fascinating  displays,  and  witness  no  more 
of  its  pomp,  parade  or  splendor,  but  honestly  teach  them  to  regard 
every  shred  of  this  custom  as  reeking  with  pollution,  blood  and 
tears. 

Such  a  training  is  possible,  and  would  prove  successful.  I  know 
the  propensities  of  children ;  but  these  propensities  may  all  be 
restrained  from  the  love  of  war,  and  moulded  into  a  settled  prefer- 
ence of  peace.  "  A  distinguished  instructer  of  youth,"  says  the 
late  William  Ladd,  "told  me  his  sons  were  so  taken  up  with  mili- 
tary notions,  that  he  could  not  reason  with  them ;  and  he  asked 
me  to  talk  to  them.  I  took  the  oldest  boy,  aged  about  seven  years, 
between  my  knees,  and  something  like  the  following  conversation 
ensued : — '  Do  you  love  to  see  the  soldiers  ? '  '  Yes,  I  love  to  see 
the  rub-a-dubs.'  'Would  yeu  like  to  be  one  yourself?'  '  O, 
yes  ! '  *  Well,  but  do  you  know  what  these  soldiers  are  for  ? ' 
'No.'  'Why,  they  are  learning  to  kill  people.  Those  bright 
guns  are  made  to  kill  people  Math,  and  those  bright  bayonets  to 
stab  them  with.'  The  boy  turned  pale ;  such  a  thought  never 
before  entered  his  head.  'Do  you  know  who  killed  the  little 
babes  in  Bethlehem,  because  a  Avicked  man  told  them  to  ? ' 
'  No.'  '  They  were  soldiers.  Do  you  know  who  crucified  our 
Lord,  and  drove  the  spikes  through  his  hands  and  feet  ? '  The , 
boy  was  silent.  '  They  were  soldiers  ;  and  soldiers  would  burn 
your  house,  and  cut  down  your  fruit-trees,  and  kill  your  pa,  if  they 
were  told  to.'  Both  the  boys  were  astonished ;  tears  stood  in 
their  eyes.  'Do  you  want  to  be  a  soldier?'  'No.'  'Do  you  want 
to  see  the  rub-a-dubs  ? '  '  No.'  "  How  easy  for  a  motlier  or 
teacher  to  impress  such  artless,  susceptible  minds  with  the  horrors 
of  war,  and  cast  their  views  and  feelings  in  the  mould  of  peace ! 

There  is  hardly  a  relation  in  life  where  a  woman  cannot  serve 
the  cause  of  peace.  Are  you  a  wife  ?  You  may,  if  you  will,  mould 
your  husband's  habits  of  thinking  on  this  suljject.  Are  you  a 
mother  ?  You  can  train  your  children  to  a  love  of  peace,  and  a 
deep,  habitual,  undying  abhorrence  of  war.  Have  you  a  father, 
brothers,  or  other  near  relatives  ?  You  can  influence  them  all  in 
favor  of  this  blessed  cause,  and  diffuse  the  principles  oT  peace 
more  or  less  through  the  whole  circle  of  your  acquaintances.  Are 
you  a  teacher  in  a  Sabbath  or  any  other  school  ?    You  can  impress 


8  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  368. 

your  own  views  of  peace  upon  the  minds  of  your  pupils,  and  infuse 
your  spirit  into  their  hearts.  Do  you  write  for  the  press  ?  You 
can  there  plead  this  cause  with  an  eloquence  all  your  own. 

Do  you  ask  for  still  further  specifications  of  what  you  can  and 
should  do  for  peace  ?  First  examine  the  subject  until  you  have 
made  it  a  part  of  your  moral  being.  Catch  its  spirit,  appreciate  its 
importance,  and  familiarize  its  main  principles,  arguments  and 
facts.  Thus  have  you  done  to  every  other  cause  in  which  you 
now  take  an  active  interest ;  and  thus  ought  you  to  do  for  the 
cause  of  peace.  Nor  keep  this  information  to  yourself,  but  diffuse 
it  as  widely  as  possible.  Write,  if  you  can,  for  the  press ;  con- 
verse with  those  around  you  ;  take  a  periodical  on  peace,  and  cir- 
culate it  among  your  neighbors ;  have  something  of  the  kind  occa- 
sionally read  at  your  sewing  and  other  circles ;  get  peace  tracts 
into  circulation  through  your  village,  your  town  or  city  ;  persuade 
your  minister  to  preach  on  the  subject,  and  prompt  the  brethren 
and  sisters  of  your  church  to  examine  it  for  themselves.  Do  what 
you  can  also  to  raise  funds  for  this  cause.  Give  from  your  own 
purse,  and  solicit  contributions  from  otliers.  Purchase  tracts  for 
gratuitous  distribution,  and  constitute  your  pastor  and  his  wife 
($20  each)  life  members  of  the  Peace  Society.  Money  is  just  as 
necessary  for  tliis  cause  as  for  any  other ;  nor  do  I  see  why  women 
should  not  help  procure  funds  for  peace  as  well  as  for  temperance 
or  missions.  At  all  events,  forget  not  to  pray  for  this  cause. 
Never  can  it  triumph  without  the  blessing  of  the  Almighty ;  but 
that  blessing  he  will  bestow  only  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  his 
people ;  and  tliey  are  as  truly  bound  to  pray  for  the  world's  pacifi- 
cation as  for  its  conversion  to  God*.  Both  are  alike  promised  in 
his  word ;  and  for  both  are  all  Christians  equally  required  to  use 
the  means  of  his  appointment,  and  then  look  to  him  in  faith  for 
the  blessing  requisite  to  full  success. 

I  know  that  the  chief  responsibility  for  this  cause,  as  for  every 
other,  rests  on  men ;  but  I  believe  it  is  in  the  power  of  women,  if 
we  will,  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  war,  and  undermine  ere  long 
the  entire  war-system.  L«et  us  .as  Christians,  as  members  of  so- 
ciety, as  sisters  and  daughters,  as  wives,  mothers  and  teachers, 
array  against  it  our  utmost  influence  ;  let  us  chant  no  more  songs 
in  its  praise,  nor  lavish  any  more  favors  on  its  epauletted  agents, 
but  look  upon  their  trade  of  blood  with  disgust  and  horror ;  let  us 
unite  to  bring  it  under  the  perpetual  ban  of  our  wJiole  sex  as  a 
deadly  foe  to  ourselves  and  the  world ;  let  us  loathe  and  abhor  it 
as  we  do  robbery  or  murder,  and  regard  its.  instruments  of  death 
as  we  should  a  gallows  or  guillotine,  and  shun  its  myrmidons  as 
we  would  so  many  executioners ;  let  all  women  do  this,  and  war 
would  soon  cease  from  every  land. 

There  is  no  end  to  the  motives  which  should  constrain  women 
especially  to  such  efforts  as  these  against  war.  It  has  inflicted  on 
them  a  world  of  evils.  I  know  we  are  required  to  take  no  active 
part  in  its  prosecution ;  yet  are  we  still  among  its  deepest  sufferers. 
It  seems  to  take  little  of  our  money ;  but  its  enormous  taxes  keep 


o69  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON   WOMEN.  .  9^ 

millions  of  our  sisters  on  the  brink  of  st.arvation  from  year  io  year. 
True,  we  go  not  forth  to  its  battles  ;  but  our  fathers  and  brothers, 
our  husbands  and  sons  are  compelled  to  go,  and  leave  not  a  few  of 
us  to  want  and  grief.  The  sufferings  of  war  are  not  all  heaped 
upon  the  battle-lield ;  but  for  every  victim  there  many  a  female 
heart  at  home  must  writhe  in  anguish.  Not  a  battle  can  be  fought, 
not  the  slightest  victory  won,  without  sending  grief  through  hun- 
dreds, if  not  thousands  of  domestic  circles.  Alas !  how  many 
mothers  must  lose  a  son ;  how  many  wives  a  husband ;  how  many 
daughters  a  father  ;  how  many  sisters  a  brother  beloved !  Here  is 
anguish  which  no  historian  records ;  but,  if  you  would  learn  the 
widest,  keenest,  most  incurable  sufferings  of  Avar,  you  must  go 
through  the  land,  enter  its  humblest  dwellings,  and  there  behold 
the  disconsolate  mother,  the  heart-broken  widow,  the  lonely,  help- 
less orphan,  doomed  to  want  and  sorrow  that  can  end  only  in  the 
grave. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  sketch  a  tithe  of  the  peculiar  evils  inflicted 
by  war  upon  our  sex.  Look  at  the  siege  of  Magdeburg,  at  the 
occupation  of  Moscow  by  the  French,  at  their  career  in  Spain  and 
Portugal — babes  stabbed  at  their  mothers'  breasts ;  little  infants 
not  a  year  old  lying  in  the  mud  of  the  road,  transfixed  with  wounds ; 
women  beheaded  or  bayonetted  on  the  very  spot  where  they  had 
been  violated ;  daughters  dishonored  at  the  feet  of  their  parents, 
wives  in  the  arms  of  their  husbands,  and  multitudes  destroyed 
either  by  themselves  or  their  friends  solely  to  escape  indignities 
deemed  worse  than  death  itself!  Nor  is  all  this  the  worst  of  their 
outrages  ;  but  decency  blushes  to  record,  language  itself  would 
fail  to  describe,  the  horrid  brutalities  often  perpetrated  on  women 
during  the  late  wars  in  the  very  heart  of  Christendom  by  men 
calling  themselves  Christians  ! ! 

Take  one  of  the  mildest  specimens  in  the  maid  of  Moscow. 
That  ancient  capital  of  Russia  was  in  ruins ;  and  the  French  sol- 
diers, while  d^gerly  searching  every  part  of  a  ruined  church,  per- 
ceived a  lamp  at  the  end  of  a  dark  gallery,  glimmering  on  a  small 
altar.  They  immediately  proceeded  towards  it,  and  found  there  a 
young  female  elegantly  dressed,  and  kneeling  in  the  attitude  of 
devotion.  At  the  noise  of  the  soldiers,  she  screamed,  and  fell  into 
a  swoon,  in  which  condition  she  was  carried  before  a  French  gen- 
eral. Her  countenance,  in  which  grief  and  despair  were  equally 
blended,  was  irresistibly  interesting.  As  her  recollection  returned, 
she  seemed  to  deprecate  the  care  taken  in  recalling  her  to  life  ; 
but  the  general  begged  her  to  relate  her  misfortunes. 

"  Alas ! "  said  she,  "  of  wliat  use  to  mention  the  wealth  of  a 
house  that  will  soon  be  annihilated  ?  Suffice  it  that  the  name  of 
my  father  is  celebrated  in  the  history  of  our  empire ;  and  he  is  now 
serving  with  distinction  in  the  army  which  is  fighting  in  our  de- 
fence. My  name  is  Paulowna.  On  the  day  preceding  your  entrance 
into  Moscow,  I  was  to  have  been  united  to  one  of  the  young  war- 
riors who  had  distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Majaisk ;  but, 
in  the  midst  of  the  nuptial  solemnities,  my  father  was  informed 
that  the  French  were  at  the  gates  of  the  city,  and,  suspending  our 


10  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  370 

marriage,  he  hastened,  in  company  with  my  husband,  to  join  the 
army.  Our  anxieties  grew  apace.  The  next  morning,  as  I  sat 
with  our  afflicted  family,  we  heard  the  roar  of  cannon.  The  noise 
evidently  came  nearer ;  and  we  no  longer  doubted  we  must  leave 
Moscow,  We  instantly  fled ;  but,  when  arrived  near  the  Kremlin, 
an  immense  crowd  met  us,  and,  rushing  hastily  by,  parted  me  from 
my  mother  and  sisters.  I  endeavored  to  call  them  by  my  cries  ; 
but  the  noise  of  arms,  and  the  shouts  of  an  infuriated  populace, 
entirely  overpowered  my  feeble  voice.  Meanwhile  the  French 
penetrated  into  the  town,  and,  driving  all  before  them,  advanced 
towards  the  Kremlin.  To  find  a  shelter  from  their  excesses,  I  ran 
with  many  others  into  the  citadel,  which  was  considered  a  place 
of  security ;  and,  as  I  could  not  mix  with  the  combatants,  I  retired 
to  the  church  of  St  Michael,  seeking  refuge  among  the  graves  of 
the  Czars.  Kneeling  near  their  sepulchres,  I  was  invoking  the 
spirits  of  those  illustrious  founders  of  our  country,  when  on  a  sud- 
den some  brutal  soldiers  broke  in  upon  my  retreat,  and  dragged 
me  from  a  sacred  and  inviolable  asylum." 

*  When  the  wretched  girl  had  finished  her  story,'  continues 
Labaume,  '  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and,  throwing  herself  at 
the  general's  feet,  implored  him  to  respect  her  virtue,  and  restore 
her  to  her  relatives.  The  general,  pretending  to  pity  her  misfor- 
tunes, pledged  himself  to  relieve  them.  He  offered  her  his  house 
as  a  protection,  and  promised  his  best  endeavors  to  discover  her 
father  and  distressed  mother ;  but  this  apparent  generosity  was 
only  a  lure  to  deceive  the  innocent  Paulowna,  and  make  her  an 
easier  victim  of  his  treachery  and  lusts.  Young,  artless  and  con- 
fiding, she  trusted  his  word ;  and  the  general,  by  feigning  senti- 
ments he  never  knew,  and  persuading  her  that  it  was  impossible  to 
discover  her  parents  or  her  lover,  brought  her  at  length  to  regard 
him  as  her  friend  and  protector.  He  oflfered  her  his  hand  in  mar- 
riage ;  and,  on  the  faith  of  repeated  promises,  the  poor  helpless 
girl  became  the  victim  of  a  base  seducer.  Alasl  the  general 
was  already  married  ;  and  she  who  had  expected  to  be  his  wife, 
found  herself  only  a  dishonored  slave.' 

Let  me  quote  here  a  few  cases  somewhat  different  from  that  of 
Paulowna.  "  The  French  women,"  says  Labaume,  "  who  followed 
us  from  Moscow  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  Russians,  hoped 
to  find  with  us  certain  protection.  Most  of  those  on  foot,  with 
shoes  of  stuff*  little  fitted  to  defend  them  from  the  frozen  snow,  and 
clad  in  robes  of  silk  or  the  thinnest  muslin,  were  glad  to  cover 
themselves  with  tattered  pieces  of  military  cloaks  torn  from  the 
bodies  of  dead  soldiers.  But  of  all  tliese  victims,  none  excited  a 
warmer  pity  than  the  young  and  interesting  Fanny.  Beautiful  and 
affectionate,  amiable  and  sprightly,  speaking  many  diflTerent  lan- 
guages, and  possessing  every  quality  calculated  to  win  the  most 
insensible  heart,  she  now  begged  for  the  most  menial  employment; 
and  the  morsel  of  bread  she  obtained,  drew  from  her  the  strongest 
expressions  of  gratitude.  Imploring  succor  from  us  all,  she  was 
compelled  to  submit  to  the  vilest  abuse ;  and,  though  her  soul 
loathed  the  prostitution,  she  belonged  every  night  to  him  who 


371  CLAIMS    OP   PEACli    ON  WOMEN.     ^  11 

would  charge  himself  with  her  support.  I  saw  her  when  we  quitted 
Smolensko.  She  was  no  longer  able  to  walk.  She  was  clinging 
to  the  tail  of  a  horse,  and  was  thus  dragged  along !  At  length  her 
powers  were  quite  exhausted ;  she  fell  on  the  snow,  and  there  re- 
mained unburied,  witliout  exciting  one  emotion  of  pity,  or  obtain- 
ing one  look  of  compassion ! ! " 

Nor  does  peace  secure  women  from  the  soldier's  abuse.  '  After 
the  old  French  war,  an  English  regiment  came  to  Albany.  The 
flash  and  finery  of  the  officers  quite  turned  the  heads  of  the  young ; 
and,  ingratiating  themselves  by  degrees,  they  corrupted  at  length 
the  morals  of  both  sexes  by  balls  and  dances,  masquerades,  tem- 
porary theatres,  and  other  arts  of  seduction.  The  good  old 
minister  early  took  the  alarm,  and  preached  boldly  against  these 
demoralizing  innovations  ;  but,  though  sustained  by  the  aged  and 
the  wise,  the  influence  of  the  army,  rallying  the  young  on  their 
side,  prevailed,  and  drove  the  preacher  from  his  pulpit,  from  the 
city,  and  even  the  country.  They  silenced  his  voice,  but  could 
not  falsify  his  predictions,  which  soon  began  to  be  visibly  fulfilled. 
More  than  a  dozen  of  the  most  ancient  and  respectable  families 
were  disgraced,  and  a  multitude  of  the  common  people. 

'  The  fall  of  one  female  was  too  deplorable  to  be  soon  forgotten. 
She  was  the  favorite  grand-daughter  of  an  ancient,  superannuated 
domine  of  great  respectability  and  wealth,  by  the  name  of  Lyd- 
ius,  at  whose  house  Col.  Schuyler,  commander  of  the  regiment, 
was  billeted.  In  vain  did  the  wife  of  Col.  Schuyler  warn  the 
young  lady  of  her  danger.  She  fell  a  victim  to  seduction.  The 
poor  old  grand-father  offered  her  seducer,  a  Capt.  Rogers,  all  his 
property,  if  he  would  marry  his  grand-daughter,  and  thus  remove 
the  disgrace  from  his  family.  He  offered  in  vain;  perhaps  the 
villain  was  already  married.  Proud  and  high-spirited,  of  great 
pretensions  from  her  birth  and  fortune,  the  disgrace  bereft  the 
young  lady  of  her  reason ;  and  for  thirty  years  after  the  birth  of 
her  child,  did  the  maniac  mother  constantly  sit  at  the  garret  win- 
dow of  the  house  in  which  she  was  born,  anxiously  looking  down 
the  river  for  the  return  of  her  seducer,  who  had  told  her  he  was 
going  to  Ireland,  his  native  country,  and  would  soon  return  and 
marry  her.  She  believed  it  all ;  and,  when  the  south  wind  blew, 
the  poor  lunatic  was  in  ecstasies,  expecting  every  moment  to  see 
him  coming  up  to  fulfil  his  promise  ;  and  then  she  would  clap  her 
hands  in  a  rapture  of  delight,  and  tears  of  joy  would  flow  down 
her  cheeks.  Her  deceiver  never  came  ;  instead  of  going  to  Ire- 
land, he  merely  got  transferred  to  a  regiment  in  Quebec. 

'  When  the  brother  of  his  victim  learned  the  truth  of  the  case, 
he  publicly  vowed  revenge,  and  followed  him  to  Quebec ;  but  a 
friend  of  Rogers,  hastening  to  inform  him  of  his  danger,  arrived 
three  days  before  the  avenger,  and  thus  gave  the  villain  time  to 
apply  for  a  furlough.  The  cause  of  it  got  wind,  and  drew  so  many 
gibes  and  jeers  from  his  brother  officers,  that  he  challenged  them 
all,  and  wounded  three  of  them  in  duels ;  but  the  seducer,  how- 
ever brave,  dared  not  meet  the  exasperated  brother  of  his  victim, 
and  embarked  the  very  day  on  which  Lydius  arrived.     The  latter 


IJJ  CLAIMS    OF    PEACE    ON    WOMEN.  372 

had  not  the  means  of  following  him  ;  but  he  vowed,  if  ever  he  set 
foot  on  this  continent  again,  he  would  be  the  death  of  the  gold- 
laced  villain.  He  never  came ;  but  the  influence  of  tliat  regiment 
on  the  morals  of  Albany  has  not  to  this  day  been  entirely  effaced.' 

Nor  have  such  outrages  ceased.  In  1843,  '  a  shore-boat,'  says 
a  New  York  paper  of  the  day,  '  brought  a  young  female  along  side 
the  U.  S.  ship  Independence,  who  desired  to  know  if  midshipman 

was  on  board,  and  insisted  on  seeing  him ;  but  the  officer  of 

the  deck  told  her  it  was  incensistent  with  his  orders.  She  urged, 
implored,  entreated*;  but  the  officer  adhered  to  his  original  resolu- 
tion ;  and,  finding  him  inexorable,  the  girl,  without  a  moment's 
thought,  leaped  ft-om  the  boat,  and  sank.  A  seaman,  who  had 
been  listening  to  her  conversation,  instantly  sprang  overboard  after 
her,  and  succeeded  in  holding  her  up  till  tlie  shore-boat  came  to 
their  relief.  The  officer  of  the  deck,  sunnising  that  sometliing 
extraordinary  must  have  occurred,  had  her  brought  on  board  ;  and 
the  midshipman  who  had  first  seduced,  and  Uien  deserted  her, 
being  called  on  deck,  and  confronted  with  his  victim,  was  at  once 
recognized.  What  steps  were  taken  with  the  seducer,  we  know 
not ;  but  the  girl  was  sent  ashore  with  the  assurance  that  ample 
justice  should  be  done.'  Justice !  what  reparation  can  be  made 
for  stick  villany  ?  Alas  !  we  hear  of  none  having  been  attempted 
in  this  case  ;  it  was  probably  the  last  she  ever  heard  of  redress. 

Nor  do  we  quote  these  as  cases  of  very  unusual  depravity.  War 
swarms  with  them  as  its  own  offspring.  It  must,  from  its  nature,  reek 
with  licentiousness.  Marriage  is  forbidden  in  fact,  if  not  in  form, 
to  nearly  all  its  agents  ;  and  wherever  troops  are  quartered,  or  a 
war-ship  moored,  or  even  single  officers  found  for  any  length  of 
time,  there  is  woman  too  surely  tempted  to  her  ruin.  Alas !  how 
often  does  she,  already  ruined  herself,  lure  the  other  sex  into  guilt ! 
"  On  a  ship  coming  into  port,"  says  an  English  naval  officer, 
"  large  numbers  of  prostitutes  are  frequeady  allowed  to  come  and 
live  on  board,  or  come  off  in  the  evening,  and  are  sent  ashore  in 
the  morning."  No  less  than  six  hundred  of  such  wretches  were 
said  to  have  sunk  in  the  Royal  George  at  Spithead,  Eng. ;  and  a 
naval  officer  of  our  own  says  of  his  ship  v*'hile  in  Port  Mahon,  "  I 
have  seen  five  hundred  of  tliese  lost,  degraded  creatures  on  board 
at  a  time  ;  all  the  decks  full  of  tliem  ;  between  the  guns,  and  in 
every  direction,  were  they  to  be  seen  with  the  seamen." 

Let  me,  then,  call  upon  my  sex  to  array  tliomselves  against  a 
custom  which  makes  such  monsters  cf  men,  and  such  victims  of 
women.  By  the  heartli  and  the  altar  it  desecrates,  by  every  prin- 
ciple of  our  holy  religion,  by  every  dictate  of  Jiumanity,  by  your 
regard  for  tlie  welfare  of  society,  for  your  own  honor,  rights  and 
interests,  I  conjure  you  to  unite  with  tlie  noble  band  of  philan- 
thropists who  are  toiling  to  remove  this  sin,  and  scourge,  and 
shame  from  every  Christian  land,  and  eventually  from  tlie  face  of 
the  whole  earth. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XLin. 
,   SOLEMN    APPEAL 

TO   ALL    CHRISTIANS   IN   FAVOR   OF   PEACE. 

BY   WILLIAM   LADD. 

The  apathy  of  professed  Christians  respecting  the  moral  evils 
of  war  seems  truly  surprising  ;  but,  when  we  consider  how  they 
have  been  educated,  our  wondet  ceases.  The  toys  of  children, 
the  sports  of  youth,  the  gorgeous  habiliments  of  war,  songs,  poems, 
and  sober  history  itself,  but  particularly  the  heathen  literature 
which  even  pious  youth  study  to  fit  themselves  to  be  ministers  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  all  conspire  to  make  mankind  look  with  com- 
placency on  a  custom  which,  if  we  include  all  the  time  from  the 
murder  of  Abel  to  the  slaughter  of  Waterloo,  has  brought  more 
sin  and  misery  into  the  world  than  any  other. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  scenes  of  carnage,  the  sufferings 
of  the  battle-field,  the  hospital  or  the  prison,  nor  will  I  dwell  on 
the  protracted  miseries  of  the  widow  and  orphan.  Unbaptized 
philanthropy  may  weep  over  the  miseries  of  war,  but  will  do  little 
to  avert  them.  Nor  shall  I  now  show  how  war  impoverishes  a 
nation,  and  loads  its  starving  poor  with  taxes ;  how  nations,  in 
enslaving  others,  have  lost  their  own  liberty ;  how  a  Csesar,  a 
CromAvell,  or  a  Bonaparte,  have  usurped  arbitrary  power  by  means 
of  armies  raised  to  conquer  foreign  countries,  or  to  contend  witli 
an  opposing  faction  at  home.  Mankind  love  glory  so  much  more 
than  they  love  liberty,  that  the  cause  of  peace  has  Tittle  to  hope 
from  mere  patriotism,  which  is  often  nothing  more  than  the  desire 
of  elevating  one's  own  country  on  the  ruins  of  another,  regardless 
of  the  liberty  of  both. 

Such  motives,  however  good  in  their  place,  are  utterly  inade- 
quate ;  and  my  appeal  is  now  to  the  Church  of  Christ,  to  all  such 
persons  as  are  influenced  by  Christian  principles.  I  wish  to  set 
forth  the  moral  evils  and  the  sin  of  war,  and  show  Christians  their 
duty  to  labor  for  its  immediate  abolition.  The  demon  of  war  is 
of  that  kind  which  cometh  not  forth  but  by  prayer  and  fasting. 
He  laughs  at  the  common  modes  of  exorcism  ;  but  the  church  has 
a  weapon  by  which  she  can  lay  him  low.  By  the  sword  of  th« 
Spirit,  she  can  with  prayer  achieve  the  victory.  The  Prince  of 
Peace  will  honor  his  church  by  making  it  the  instrument  of  this 
great  moral  revolution  which  will  usher  in  the  millennium ;  and  1 
long  to  see.  her  secure  this  honor  to  herself  by  doing  the  work. 

There  are,  even  among  good  men,  mistaken  views  on  this  sub- 
ject The  opposers  of  war  have  so  often  contented  themselves 
with  exhibiting  only  the  temporal  calamities  of  war,  that  many 
clergymen  have  acquired  the  habit  of  considering  war  as .  only  a 
temporal  evil ;  and,  when  a  friend  of  peace  requests  the  use  of 

p.  T.       NO.   XLIII. 


2  SOLEMN   APPEAL.  374 

their  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath,  he  is  put  off  with  the  admonition  that 
temporal  evils,  however  great,  should  not  be  discussed  on  a  day 
devoted  to  the  salvation  of  souls.  Now,  if  war  were  only  a  tem- 
poral evil,  there  would  be  Better  reason  for  such  a  refusal ;  but, 
when  we  consider  that  it  plunges  millions  of  souls  into  endless 
perdition,  and  is  a  greater  obstacle  to  tlie  conversion  of  sinners, 
and  the  spread  of  the  gospel,  than  almost  any  other  sinful  custom, 
it  would  appear  that  the  followers  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  ought  to 
be  earnestly  engaged  in  its  abolition,  and  that  a  minister,  while 
engaged  in  this  work,  is  in  fact  promoting  the  salvation  of  souls 
more  than  at  any  other  time.  He  operates  on  a  larger  scale,  and 
surely  is  not  the  less  doing  the  work  of  Him  who  said,  "  Blessed 
are  the  peace-makers." 

Unreflecting  minds  may  object  to  agitating  this  subject  while 
Christendom  enjoys  a  more  profound  peace  than  ever  before. 
True,  Christian  nations  are  less  inclined  to  war  than  formerly,  and 
events  which,  half  a  century  ago,  would  have  set  all  Europe  in  a 
blaze,  now  scarcely  disturb  the  serenity  of  the  prospect ;  but  the 
principles  of  war  have  not  been  eradicated.  Its  causes  still  operate ; 
the  occasions  only  are  wanting.  I  do  not  say,  that  the  same  spark 
which  would  formerly  have  lighted  up  a  war,  would  do  it  now  ; 
but  the  materials,  though  less  inflammable,  are  still  combustible. 
What  mean  the  great  armaments  of  Europe  even  in  peace  ?  Rus- 
sia has  nearly  a  million  of  men  under  arms,  Austria  some  half  a 
million,  France  almost  as  many.  Great  Britain  rearly  half  as  many 
as  France,  and  in  Christian  Europe  there  are  some  four  millions 
of  men  daily  losing  their  moral  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  and  fit- 
ting themselves  for  deeds  of  blood,  eager  for  pay,  panting  for 
glory,  as  they  call  a  love  of  slaughter,  like  fierce  bull  dogs  kept  in 
check  only  by  the  want  of  occasion. 

True,  our  own  country  has  less  of  the  military  spirit  than  almost 
any  other ;  but  even  we  still  think  it  necessary  to  be  prepared  for 
war,  and  spend  more  money  in  building  fortifications,  and  equip- 
ping a  navy,  than  would  be  required  to  evangelize  the  world.  It 
is  evident  Uiat  we  do  not  think  the  principles  of  war  are  eradicated ; 
for,  although  it  might  require  a  small  military  power  to  keep  down 
the  poor  slaves,  and  to  kill  them  if  they  attempted  to  obtain  their 
liberty  by  force,  a  navy  and  a  northern  militia  would  be  of  but 
little  use  in  such  a  service.  Are  we  then  preparing  for  civil  war  ? 
I  must  confess  when  I  see  a  militia  muster,  I  think  I  see  my  fellow 
citizens  sharpening  their  bayonets  for  the  hearts  of  their  brethren, 
since  I  see  no  other  use  for  them.  No,  the  principles  of  war  are 
not  yet  eradicated,  but  ready  to  spring  up  again  whenever  occa- 
sion shall  call  for  tiiem,  unless  the  present  opportunity  be  seized 
of  smothering  them  forever. 

If  we  wished  to  reclaim  a  drunkard,  should  we  preach  to  him 
while  under  tlie  influence  of  liquor?  No,  we  wait  until  he  is 
sober,  until  the  fumes  of  intoxication  have  evaporated,  and  the 
man  is  restored  to  his  right  mind.  But,  if  we  let  him  alone  to  fill 
up  his  jugs  and  decanters,  and  prepare  for  anotlier  debauch,  with- 


375  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  3 

out  a  word  of  caution  and  exhortation,  are  we  doing  our  duty  to 
him  ?  Can  we  excuse  ourselves  by  saying  he  is  noiv  sober,  and 
there  is  no  need  of  our  admonition  ?  We  may  "lay  this  flattering 
unction  to  our  souls ;"  but  God  will  require  his  life  and  his  soul  at 
our  hands.  So,  when  the  nations  have  recovered  from  a  fit  of 
martial  intoxication,  is  the  right  time  to  disseminate  correct  prin- 
ciples, and  root  out  erroneous  ones. 

I  shall  not  agitate  the  question  of  the  lawfulness  of  defensive 
war,  but  consider  war  only  as  a  moral  evil,  destructive  to  the  souls 
no  less  than  the  bodies  of  men,  and  show  that  the  Church  of  Christ 
is  able,  with  God's  help,  to  banish  war  forever  from  Christendom, 
and  that  the  blood  of  souls  now  stains  the  skirts  of  her  garments 
by  reason  of  her  neglect  of  duty.  I  wish  merely  to  show  why 
Christians  should  labor  for  the  abolition  of  war. 

T.  Influence  of  War  on  Morals  and  Piett. — The  cele- 
brated Robert  Hall  observes,  "  war  reverses,  with  respect  to  its 
objects,  all  the  rules  of  morality.  It  is  nothing  less  than  a  tem- 
porary repeal  of  all  tlie  principles  of  virtue,  and  is  a  system  from 
which  almost  all  the  virtues  are  excluded,  and  into  which  nearly 
all  the  vices  are  incorporated." 

National  rejoicings  at  the  misery  of  others  cannot  fail  to  bru- 
talize the  feelings  of  a  people,  especially  when  that  misery  is  in- 
flicted by  their  own  hands.  It  is  a  shocking  spectacle  to  see  a 
large  city  illuminated  at  the  news  of  a  victory.  We  have  sent 
ten  thousand  of  our  fellow-creatures  into  endless  misery,  and  we 
rejoice  !  We  have  made  thousands  of  widows  and  orphans,  and 
we  rejoice  !  We  have  taken  away  the  stay  and  stafi"  of  the  aged, 
and  we  rejoice!  At  the  moment  of  the  illumination,  perhaps 
thousands  of  wounded  men  are  yet  stretched  on  the  field  of  slaugh- 
ter, expiring  in  agony,  and  still  we  rejoice !  Thousands  have 
been  carted  to  hospitals  and  prisons,  where  their  life  slowly  ebbs 
away  in  protracted  torments,  and  still  we  rejoice !  Had  all  this 
been  done  by*  the  judgment  of  God,  without  our  instrumentality, 
we  should  not  dare  to  rejoice.  Had  fire  and  brimstone  rained  from 
heaven,  had  the  cholera  swept  over  the  land  of  our  adversaries,  we 
should  not  dare  to  rejoice.  We  rejoice  because  we  did  it.  If  an 
angel  should,  visit  this  earth  for  the  first  time,  knowing  nothing  of 
its  inhabitants,  and  approach  a  large  city  in  the  midst  of  a  rejoic- 
ing for  victory,  and  hear  the  report  of  cannon,  and  the  ringing  of 
church-bells,  and  see  the  illuminations,  the  feasting,  revelry,  danc- 
ing, gluttony  and  drunkenness,  and  then  should  learn  that  all  this 
was  because  they  had  sent  ten  thousand  of  their  fellow-creatures 
to  perdition,  could  he  possibly  be  persuaded,  that  these  were  the 
subjects  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  ?  Would  he  not  think,  as  Franklin 
fabled,  that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  had  arrived  at  the  abode 
of  devils  ? 

Monuments  and  trophies  of  victory  also  harden  the  heart  of 
nations.  Christian  people  contribute  their  money  to  erect  huge 
piles  of  ever-during  granite,  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  a 


4  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  376 

fatal  strife,  where  the  professed  disciples'of  the  Savior  fell  by  each 
other's  hands.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  sight  of  these  monuments 
of  wrath  should  render  the  heart  as  hard  as  tlie  granite  of  which 
they  are  built,  and  excite  the  ire  and  revenge  of  5ie  nation  whose 
defeat  they  commemorate  ? 

In  Europe,  temples  devoted  to  the  meek  and  benevolent  Jesus, 
are  profaned  by  being  made  the  receptacles  of  the  trophies  of  war, 
and  the  spoils  of  victory.  Drums,  trumpets,  spears,  bloody  stand- 
ards rent  with  bullets,  and  all  the  horrid  array  of  Moloch,  are 
exhibited  to  feed  a  nation's  vanity,  and  love  of  conquest  What 
inconsistency  !  what  insanity  and  sacrilege !  Are  these  fit  objects 
to  inspire  our  hearts  with  the  spirit  of  Christ  ? 

Lately  Christians  have  very  generally  agreed  in  reprobating  wars 
of  conquest ;  and  therefore  Ciiristiun  rulers,  when  they  cast  a  long- 
ing eye  on  the  territory  of  some  other  nation,  must  feign  some 
excuse  for  engaging  in  war.  And  what  is  the  pretext  generally 
set  forth  by  Christian  rulers  ?  Why  nothing  less  than  retaliation 
and  revenge.  They  say,  'a  nation  has  injured  us,  and  therefore 
we  will  injure  them.  We  wilj^  rob  and  sink  their  ships,  destroy 
their  commerce,  ravage  their  fields,  burn  their  cities,  kill  their 
men,  make  their  women  widows,  their  children  orphans,  and  reduce 
them  all  to  poverty  and  distress.'  Yes,  retaliation  is  the  avowed 
reason  with  nations  professing  to  believe  in  a  religion  which  strictly 
forbids  all  retaliation,  and  teaches  us  to  recompense  to  no  man  evil 
for  evil,  to  love  our  enemies,  and  to  render  good  for  evil ;  and  yet 
nations  strangely  persist  in  calling  such  wars  of  retaliation,  wars 
of  self-defence.  It  is  a  principle  of  human  nature  that,  when 
determined  to  persevere  in  a  line  of  conduct  forbidden  by  any 
doctrine  of  the  gospel,  we  are  imperceptibly  led  to  deny  the  truth 
of  that  doctrine,  and  study  to  explain  away  all  the  precepts  which 
enforce  it ;  and  then  God  gives  a  man  or  a  nation  over  to  blind- 
ness of  mind,  and  hardness  of  heart 

The  frequency  of  any  evil  reconciles  us  to  it  It  has  been 
reckoned  that  the  numbers  who  have  perished  in  war,  are  equal  to 
seventy  times  the  present  number  of  inhabitants  on  the  globe ;  but 
seventy  or  seven  times  strike  our  imagination  alike,  for  they  are 
equally  inconceivable ;  and,  when  we  hear  of  the  slaughter  of 
thousands,  the  story  is  so  old  as  to  be  disregarded.  Ilad  we  never 
been  used  to  such  things,  we  could  not  believe  they  would  ever 
happen,  and  the  first  sight  of  a  battle-field  Avould  astonish  us  as 
much  as  the  corpse  of  murdered  Abel  astonished  Adam  and  Eve. 

In  war,  a  nation  becomes  accustomed  to  robbery  and  murder. 
The  sight  of  rich  prizes,  brought  in  by  privateers,  excites  a  covet- 
ous desire,  and  a  spirit  of  piracy  pervades  the  M'hole  nation.  Men 
who,  at  the  commencement  of  a  war,  shuddered  at  the  bare  idea 
of  privateering,  seeing  others  growing  rich  by  it,  throw  off  their 
scruples,  and  readily  engage  in  it  Thus  the  nation  insensibly 
sinks  into  a  band  of  pirates,  restrained  indeed  by  certain  limits ; 
but  its  heart  becomes  the  heart  of  a  robber. 

War  is  declared  to  revenge  an  insult.    An  armed  ship  ap- 


377  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  6 

preaches  one  of  equal  force,  which  hoists  the  flag  of  the  declared 
enemy.  In  both  ships,-  the  Bibles,  if  the  sailors  have  any,  are 
bundled  up  in  the  hammocks,  and  stowed  away  in  the  nettings,  to 
.  stop  the  enemy's  shot.  All  thought  of  the  holy  precepts  contained 
in  them,  is  suspended.  The  only  thought  is  to  maim,  kill,  burn, 
sink  and  destroy.  The  chaplains  on  board  each  vessel  resort  to 
their  respective  stations,  to  pray  for  victory  to  the  same  God, 
through  the  intercession  of  the  same  Redeemer.  Broadside  after 
broadside  is  poured  into  the  contending  ships.  The  scuppers  run 
with  blood.  Groans,  screams,  curses,  blasphemy  are  heard  above 
the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  rattle  of  musketry.  The  ships  grapple, 
timbers  crack,  spars  are  shivered,  the  masts  fall  on  the  reeling 
vessels,  unheeded  by  the  crew,  except  when  they  crush  some  of 
them  to  pieces.  Their  only  object  is  to  thrust  their  pikes  through 
the  hearts  of  their  opponents.  The  victory  is  achieved,  or  perhaps 
both  ships  sink  to  the  bottom,  carrying  down  the  killed  and 
wounded,  victors  and  vanquished.  Or,  perhaps,  one  ship  is  set  on 
fire,  and  the  crew  are  driven  by  the  flames  to  the  extreme  parts  of 
the  vessel.  In  some  such  instances,  men  have  been  known,  as  at 
the  victory  of  Trafalgar,  to  blow  out  their  own  brains,  or  jump 
overboard,  to  prevent  their  being  burnt  alive,  or  swallow  immense 
quantities  of  ardent  spirits  to  make  them  insensible  to  their  suffer- 
ings. At  length  the  fire  reaches  the  magazine,  a  tremendous  ex- 
plosion ensues,  and  the  other  ship,  if  not  destroyed,  is  covered  with 
mangled  limbs,  and  pieces  of  the  wreck.  These  and  their  own 
dead  they  throw  overboard,  and  then  indulge  in  revelling ;  death, 
hell,  and  judgment  are  mocked,  and,  with  joyful  hearts,  they  bear 
away  for  home,  to  boast  of  their  victory,  and  tell  how  many  of  the 
enemy  they  have  sent  to  endless  perdition !  and  a  whole  Christian 
nation  gives  itself  up  to  diabolical  joy  and  rejoicing ! !  Pictures 
of  the  battle  are  painted  and  engraved,  and  scattered  round  by 
hundreds ;  the  enemy  are  caricatured,  ridiculed  and  insulted ;  and 
jjride,  boasting  and  self-confidence  every  where  prevail.  Does 
not  this  injure  the  moral  feelings  of  a  nation  ?  'Ah  !  but  we  have 
had  our  revenge ;  and  revenge  is  sweet.'  Yes,  it  is  sweet  to  a 
savage,  and  a  nation  becomes  savage  when  indulging  in  it. 

II.  War  degrading  to  its  Agents. — If  war  demoralizes  a 
whole  nation,  much  more  does  it  debase  those  immediately  con- 
cerned in  it.  The  vices  of  the  camp  are  proverbial.  No  one 
ever  looks  there  for  piety  or  virtue.  Dr.  Doddridge,  in  his  life  of 
Col.  Gardiner,  speaks  of  the  camp  as  a  place  "  where  the  temp- 
tations are  so  many,  and  the  prevalence  of  the  vicious  character 
is  so  great,  that  it  may  seem  no  inconsiderable  praise  and  felicity 
to  be  free  from  dissolute  vice.  The  few  who  do  escape,  should 
be  reckoned  heroes  indeed,  and  highly  favored  of  heaven."  That 
there  is  in  camps  a  principle  called  honor,  I  allow ;  but  that  is  a 
principle  which  enforces  practices  which  are  directly  contrary  to 
the  gospel.  There  is  "  honor  among  thieves ; "  but  who  ever 
thought  of  finding  piety  there  ? 


6  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  ,  378 

The  slavery  to  which  one  is  subjected  the  moment  he  enlists, 
tends,  like  all  other  slavery,  to  debase  the  man,  and  assimilate  him 
to  a  brute.  A  soldier's  oath  is,  "  I  swear  to  obey  the  orders  of  the 
officers  set  over  me ;  so  help  me  God."  No  matter  what  the  com- 
mand is,  whether  it  violates  the  law  of  God,  or  not,  he  must  submit. 
Every  action,  every  motion,  becomes  the  object  of  command.  He 
must  face  to  the  right  or  left,  advance  or  recede,  and  be  in  all 
things  like  a  machine ;  and,  in  fact,  he  becomes  a  machine  with 
a  single  spring,  and  that  is  passive  obedience.  If  He  is  commanded 
to  burn  a  poor  widow's  house,  he  must  obey.  In  vain  tlie  widow 
and  the  orphan  kneel,  entreat  and  weep,  orders  must  be  obeyed. 
If  commanded  to  take  her  last  cow,  her  last  sheaf  of  wheat,  or  loaf 
of  bread,  he  must  obey.  Habituated  to  rob  and  murder  those  whom 
the  state  calls  enemies,  he  easily  learns  to  rob  and  murder  all 
whom  he  pleases  to  call  enemies,  and  acquires  a  habit  of  robbery 
and  murder,  which  makes  the  next  act  of  robbery  and  murder  more 
easy,  and  confirms  the  habit  No  one  can  habitually  violate  any 
one  of  God's  commandments,  without  acquiring  a  propensity  to 
violate  all  the  others. 

Perhaps  the  young  soldier  has  been  brought  up  in  a  pious  family, 
and  taught  to  honor  the  Sabbath ;  but,  when  ordered  out  on  a  for- 
aging, a  plundering  or  a  fighting  party  on  the  Sabbath,  he  must 
go.  To  talk  of  the  laws  of  God  would  make  him  an  object  of 
ridicule.  War  abolishes  them  51II.  The  British  armies  are  often 
quartered  among  Roman  Catholic  allies ;  and,  however  Protestant 
may  be  the  officers  and  soldiers,  they  are  sometimes  ordered  to 
assist  in  what  they  deem  the  idolatries  of  popery.  Two  officers 
who  refused  to  do  this,  were  cashiered,  and  the  sentence  confirmed 
by  the  king  who  virtually  said,  that,  if  soldiers  were  allowed  to 
have  a  conscience,  there  would  be  an  end  of  discipline.  Bonaparte 
boasted,  that  he  could  convert  his  whole  army  to  Maliometanism 
by  a  single  order. 

When  men  become  so  degraded,  it  is  not  at  all  astonishing  tl^ 
they  fall  into  every  vice  and  sin  without  compunction.  Accire- 
tomed  to  plunder  for  the  public,  they  learn  to  plunder  on  their  own 
account.  Used  to  bloodshed  and  violence,  life  appears  a  trifle  to 
tliem.  Far  from  the  instructions  of  the  sanctuary,  amid  compan- 
ions who  make  a  jest  of  religion,  and  glory  in  despising  deatii  and 
judgment,  what  shall  prevent  the  soldier  from  falling  into  intern 
perance,  profaneness,  lasciviousness,  and  every  other  vice  ?  Uni 
versal  experience  confirms  tliese  remarks.  Many  have  left  the 
paternal  roof  for  the  camp  comparatively  innocent ;  few  have 
returned  uncorrupted ;  and  the  corruption  of  the  army  is  not 
confined  to  the  camp,  but  spreads  its  blighting  influence  through 
every  rank  in  society.  Morals  and  piety  deteriorate  as  the  war 
advances.  A  deacon  of  the  church  with  which  I  am  connected,  was 
.a  soldier  of  the  revolution.  He  says  that,  when  he  entered  the 
army,  they  had  prayers,  at  least  once  a  day,  and  divine  service  on 
the  Sabbath ;  but  during  the  last  three  years  of  the  war,  he  never 
heard  a  prayer  or  a  sermon. 


379  SOLEMN    APPEAL.,  7 

III.  War  a  Nursery  of  Intemperance. — Intemperance  is  an 
inlet  to  all  other  sins.  Should  we  mark  in  our  own  history  the 
point  at  which  the  custom  of  war  opens  the  flood-gates  of  tliis  evil 
we  should  say  it  is  in  the  militia  system.  True,  there  has  been  a 
partial  reform  in  that  system ;  but  the  militia  is  still  (1836)  the  strong 
hold  of  intemperance.  If  the  officers  of  some  companies  agree  not 
to  treat  their  men  with  ardent  spirits,  the  number  is  comparatively 
small.  It  is  not  long  since  a  militia  officer  of  my  acquaintance 
accused  me  of  pressing  him  too  hard  on  the  subject  of  temperance. 
*  You  make  no  allowance  for  us,  militia  officers,'  said  he.  '  We 
must  treat  our  soldiers,  or  we  shall  be  called  stingy  and  niggardly. 
You  may  well  subscribe  to  the  temperance  pledge,  for  it  is  no 
cross  for  you  to  take  up.  I  would  do  so  too,  if  I  were  not  a  militia 
officer.'  The  gentleman  has  since  resigned  his  commission,  and 
become  an  active  member  of  a  temperance  society.  Beside  the 
intoxicating  liquors  dealt  out  to  the  soldiers,  the  muster-field  is 
surrounded  with  stalls  for  the  sale  of  strong  drink.  The  people 
who  go  to  these  musters  as  spectators,  go  for  tlie  very  purpose  of 
excitement,  and  will  of  course  indulge  iii^the  use  of  exciting  liquors. 
What  is  to  hinder  ?  The  bottle  is  put  to  tlieir  mouths  ;  and  there 
are  rum-sellers  and  drinkers  enough  to  keep  them  in  countenance. 

In  a  time  of  profound  peace,  there  may  be  some  show  of  tem- 
perance in  the  army  and  navy  ;  but  I  fear  there  is,  as  yet,  little  in 
reality.  A  rendezvous,  without  intoxicating  liquors,  would  meet 
with  poor  success.  It  is  not  long  since  the  Secretary  of  War  ob- 
served, it  would  never  do  to  give  up  the  use  of  ardent  spirits  in  the 
army  and  navy  ;  for,  said  he,  "  no  one  enlists  when  he  is  sober."  I 
have  not  heard  that  sutlers  are  forbidden  to  sell  rum  to  the  soldiers ; 
and  I  once  heard  one  say,  he  sold  a  hundred  gills  of  rum  a  day  to 
the  soldiers  of  his  company,  which  I  believe  did  no^  number  over 
fifty  men,  and  this  beside  their  regular  allowance.  In  a  time  of 
profound  peace,  there  may  be  some  effect  produced  in  a  small 
army  like  that  of  the  United  States,  in  the  temperance  reform ; 
but,  should  war  break  out,  especially  a  civil  war,  all  the  barriers 
against  intemperance  would  be  broken  down.  Rendezvous,  with 
all  their  temptations,  would  be  opened  in  all  our  villages ;  the 
double  allowance  of  grog,  and  the  mixed  rum  and  gunpowder 
would  again  be  dealt  out  before  a  battle ;  and  floods  of  intempe- 
rance would  again  flow  over  our  land,  and  sweep  away  all  our 
temperance  societies. 

Would  victories  be  celebrated  with  cold  water  ?^  Has  there 
ever  been  such  a  thing  ?  Has  the  victory  of  New  Orleans,  though 
achieved  so  long  ago,  ever  been  celebrated  with  cold  water? 
If  so,  I  have  not  heard  of  it.  True,  some  of  our  independence  din- 
ners go  off  with  cold  water;  but  how  few!  not  one  perhaps  in  a 
thousand !  The  Fourth  of  July,  however,  is  coming  to  be  more  like 
a  civil  than  a  military  festival. 

Our  military  balls  are,  also,  great  inlets  to  intemperance  and  dis- 
sipation ;  and  the  visits  which  our  companies  of  young  and  newly 
feathered  heroes  make  to  our  principal  cities,  to  shoAv  off  their  fine 
dresses  and  ornaments,  are  more  like  the  triumphs  of  Bacchus  than 


8  80LEMN    APPEAL.  380 


of  Mars.  The  quantities  of  intoxicating  liquors  drank  on  these 
occasions,  are  absolutely  incredible  I  I  have  been  informed  by  a 
young  cadet,  of  the  quantity  used  on  one  occasion  of  this  kind ;  but 
I  dare  not  mention  it,  for  fear  I  should  not  be  believed.  Must  not 
such  influences  greatly  obstruct  the  temperance  reform,  and  create 
a  fearful  increase  of  intemperance  ? 


TV.  IwFLUENCE  OF  War  ON  THE  Sabbath. — "  War  acknowl- 
edges no  Sabbath,"  said  a  militia  officer  to  a  subaltern  who  demur- 
red at  serving  notices  of  a  training  on  Sunday.  I  believe  more 
battles  have  been  fought  by  Christians,  so  called,  on  the  holy  Sab- 
bath, than  on  any  other  day.  I  never  heard  of  but  one  general  in 
modern  times  who  refused  to  give  battle  on  the  Sabbath  lest  he 
should  break  God's  holy  law,  and  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic.  That 
war  totally  disregards  the  Sabbath,  and  abolishes  the  fourth  com- 
mandment, is  too  notorious  to  require  proof.  So  habituated  do 
soldiers  become  to  its  violation  in  a  time  of  actual  war,  that  they 
carry  their  disregard  of  it  through  every  thing  relating  to  war  in  a 
time  of  peace.  Men-of-war  are  launched,  and  fitted  out  on  the  Sab- 
bath ;  and  so  accustomed  are  we  to  the  sight,  that  what  would  be 
considered  very  wicked  on  board  a  merchant-man,  is  thought 
nothing  of  on  board  ships  of  war.  More  duty  is  demanded  of 
sailors  on  the  Sabbath,  than  is  common  on  otlier  days  of  the  week. 
The  decks  must  be  scrubbed,  the  boats  manned,  and  every  tiling 
put  in  order  for  company  on  the  Sabbath,  which  is  usually  much 
more  numerous  on  that  day  than  on  any  other  day  in  the  week.  In 
garrisons  they  have  the  Sunday-dress-parade  of  military  foppery, 
colors,  and  military  evolutions,  with  more  music  than  is  usual  on 
other  days,  to  please  the  gaping  multitude  who  are  released  from 
labor  and  catre,  only  tliat  they  may  spend  the  day  in  dissipation, 
idleness  and  revelry.  Sunday  is  the  greatest  of  all  days  in  Europe 
for  militia  musters,  as  well  as  tlie  parade  of  the  regular  army,  be- 
cause they  had  rather  give  God's  day  tlian  any  other.  We  have 
not  yet  arrived  at  that  pitch  in  this  country,  for  we  have  as  yet 
seen  but  little  of  actual  war ;  but  our  militia  reviews  are  frequently 
on  Monday,  so  that  a  part  of  Sunday  is  often  employed  in  prepar- 
ing arms,  and  resorling  to  the  place  of  display. 

Our  naval  officers  make  no  scruple  of  exchanging  salutes  on  the 
Sabbath,  or  visiting  naval  stations  ;  and  not  long  since  the  inhabi- 
tants of  one  of  our  seaports,  while  at  church,  were  alarmed  at  the 
report  of  cannon,  fired  in  honor  of  the  arrival  of  the  navy  commis- 
sioners at  the  navy  yard  in  the  vicinity.  If  these  officers  had  not 
been  used  to  treat  the  Sabbath  with  contempt,  they  might  just  as 
well  have  visited  the  station  on  Monday  ;  but  it  is  not  likely  that 
they  ever  thought  of  the  impropriety  of  their  conduct  Commo- 
dore Porter,  in  the  journal  of  his  cruise  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  }rub- 
lished  at  the  close  of  the  late  war,  calls  the  religious  observance 
of  the  Sabbath  "a  vulgar  Protestant  prejudice."  In  time  of  war, 
fortifications  are  erected  on  the  Sabbath,  and  thousands  go  to  work 
on  them,  and  exhibit  their  punch  and  patriotism  on  the  Lord's  day, 
who  are  seen  there  on  no  other  day  of  the  week. 


381  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  9 

The  revolutionary  war  gave  a  severe  blow  to  the  strict  obser- 
vance of  the  Sabbath,  which  was  practised  by  our  pilgrim  fore- 
fathers, from  which  it  has  never  recovered,  and  never  will,  until 
the  custom  of  war  is  banished  from  Christendom.  The  last  war 
followed  up  that  blow ;  and  hence  we  see  so  great  a  neglect  of 
God's  holy  day.  The  desecration  of  the  Sabbath  does  not  stop 
when  war  stops  ;  but  continues  from  generation  to  generation.  If 
religion,  without  the  Sabbath,  would  soon  be  supplanted  by  infidel- 
ity, and  a  general  corruption  of  morals,  is  it  not  strange,  that  pious 
men,  ardently  devoted  to  a  better  observance  of  the  Sabbath, 
should  be  blind  to.  the  greatest  cause  of  the  evil  they  deplore  ? 

Nor  will  any  provisions  made  for  tlie  religious  instruction  of 
soldiers,  prevent  this  evil.  Even  in  own  Military  Academy  at 
West  Point,  "  the  whole  amount  of  the  religious  services  and  reli- 
gious influence  of  each  week,  favorable  to  the  institution,"  said  one 
of  its  friends  in  1835,  "  is  contained  within  the  compass  of  one 
sermon,  and  one  exercise  of  public  worship  upon  the  forenoon  of 
the  Lord's  day.  There  is  no  daily  public  prayer.  The  Sabbath  is 
oflicially  recognized  as  a  day  of  study.  It  was  not  long  ago,  that 
this  day  was  selected  by  authority  as  the  time  for  breaking  up  the 
customary  two  months'  encampment,  and  then,  with  tents  struck, 
and  baggage  regularly  bestowed,  marching  into  barracks.  If,  after 
this,  any  one  should  inquire  into  the  actual  religious  feeling  prev- 
^alent  in  the  institution,  he  would  find  the  religiously  disposed  cadets 
to  be  few  in  number,  and  ready  to  tell  him,  if  inquired  of,  that  their 
seriousness  meets  with  but  little  countenance  from  the  body  of  their 
fellows,  and  that  a  decided  disbelief  of  the  Christian  religion  is  a 
fashionable  sentiment  under  the  form  of  Atheism,  but  more  com- 
monly of  Deism.  We  were  informed,  not  long  since,  that,  in  a 
particular  department, — the  immediate  military  command  of  the 
cadets, — a  majority  of  the  officers  were  infidels  or  sceptics. — The 
President  of  the  Board,  an  officer  of  the  highest  rank  in  the  United 
States  army,  having  choice  of  the  day  to  receive  the  honors  due  to 
his  superior  command,  chose  Sunday ;  and  that  same  officer  in 
1826,  when  he  visited  the  post,  in  his  capacity  of  inspector  of  the 
academy,  and  having  at  that  time  almost  his  choice  of  days  on 
which  to  receive  the  honors  of  the  post,  again  chose  the  Sabbath. 
Grieved  at  the  selection,  the  chaplain  petitioned  for  a  change ;  but 
no  change  was  granted.  He  remonstrated ;  but  the  remonstrance 
was  unnoticed ;  and  on  Sunday  morning,  with  the  march  of  a  bat- 
talion, amid  the  roll  of  drums,  and  the  firing  of  artillery,  a  mortal 
man  received  from  his  fellow  mortals  his  measured  perquisite  of 
sound  and  circumgyration,  before  going  up  to  the  house  of  public 
worship.  The  chaplain's  text  was  appropriate  to  the  circumstances, 
'  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy.'  "  The  chaplain  soon 
left;  and  the  kind  as  well  as  amount  of  religion  among  the  soldiers, 
may  be  inferred  not  only  from  the  preceding  statements,  but  from 
the  reply  of  an  American  officer  to  a  clergyman  who  asked  the 
necessity  of  inspections  on  the  Sabbath : — "  O  sir,"  said  he,  "  if 
you  dispense  with  Sunday  inspections,  you  would  break  up  all 
the  religion  (!)  of  the  army." 


10  BOLfeMN    APPEAL.  382 

V.  War  a  Hotbed  of  Licentiousness. — Efforts  to  prevent 
breaches  of  the  seventh  commandment,  and  produce  a  greater 
degree  of  purity  among  our  youth,  must  meet  the  approbation  of 
all  good  men.  Whatever  may  be  our  opiniSn  of  the  means  used, 
every  one  must  applaud  the  end.  But  though  licentiousness  may 
lurk  in  our  great  cities,  and  spread  contamination  into  the  country, 
as  yet  lasciviousness  does  not  openly  stalk  abroad  at  noon  day,  as 
it  does  in  those  countries  which  have  been  exposed  to  the  blight- 
ing influence  of  great  military  and  naval  establishments  ;  nor  does 
the  general  immorality  of  our  country  bear  a  greater  proportion  to 
the  vices  of  Europe,  than  our  puny  warlike  preparations  do  to  their 
Btuf)endous  and  overwhelming  establishments. 

Such  a  state  of  things  is  to  be  expected  in  Europe.  When  we 
see  an  army  of  one  hundred  thousand  men,  we  should  reflect  that 
nearly  an  equal  number  of  the  other  sex  are  deprived  of  their  natu- 
ral support,  and  exposed  to  all  tlie  temptatfons  of  vice,  increased  by 
poverty,  and  the  absence  of  their  natural  protectors.  This  is  what 
would  be  the  case  in  time  of  peace ;  but  in  war  the  average  life  of 
a  solflier  does  not  exceed  three  years,  that  is,  an  army  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  men  would  require  one  hundred  thousand  recruits 
in  the  course  of  three  years  to  keep  its  ranks  full.  The  mortality 
in  the  French  array  during  the  late  wars  in  Europe,  at  times,  ex- 
ceeded that  proportion.  Of  the  five  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
men  with  which  Napoleon  entered  Russia,  not  twenty  thousand 
re-crossed  the  Rhine.  I  believe  the  number  of  men  in  our  army 
and  navy  during  the  last  war,  did  not  average  over  forty  thousand. 
The  war  did  not  continue  three  years ;  yet  it  is  calculated,  that  we 
lost  over  forty  thousand  men  though  we  had  little  fighting.  Dis- 
sipation, and  the  diseases  of  the  camp  were,  as  usual,  more  fatal 
tlian  the  sword.  If  this  calculation  of  the  mortality  in  armies  in 
general  is  correct,  then  a  nation  that  maintains  an  army  of  one 
hundred  thousand  men,  must,  in  three  years  of  war,  have  an  in- 
crease of  one  hundred  thousand  women  unprovided  for.  And  then, 
when  we  consider,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  army  are  men  of 
dissolute  habits,  and  constantly  moving  about  from  place  to  place, 
it  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  a  vast  number  of  women  did  not  be- 
come the  victims  of  seduction.  Such  is  the  fact  I  have  seen  in 
Europe  vast  numbers  of  women  following  the  camp ;  and  in  some 
instances,  especially  in  the  French  armies,  they  were  even  known 
to  put  on  male  attire,  and  follow  their  paramours  into  the  deadly 
conflict  A  considerable  number  of  women  were  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Waterloo.  That  some  of  these  women  were  wives,  is 
admitted ;  but  a  far  greater  part  of  them,  nearly  all,  had  no  claim 
to  this  character.  But  if  they  had  been  married,  what,  after  their 
husbands  were  killed,  would  prevent  them  from  falling  a  prey  to 
the  many  temptations  which  surrounded  them  ?  These  women 
become  practised  in  every  evil,  and  their  hearts  are  hardened  to 
every  crime.  Some  of  them  are  beautiful ;  lured  from  scenes  of 
elegance  and  refinement,  they  sink  into  incarnate  fiends,  and  are 
turned  on  society  to  take  a  horrible  vengeance  on  our  guilty  sex. 

Hence  in  the  great  cities  of  Europe,  there  are  scenes  of  vice, 


383  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  11 

of  which  happily,  in  this  country,  we  are  as  yet  ignorant  Here 
vice  shuns  the  day;  but  there  she  walks  forth  without  a  blush. 
There  Abandoned  women  are  seen  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  to 
lure  the  simple  ones.  At  night  the  streets  of  London  are  thronged 
with  them ;  and  a  young  man  is  repeatedly  assaulted  by  these 
harpies,  and  many  a  one  lured  to  his  ruin.  At  the  theatres  they 
abound,  and  form  a  great  part  of  the  audience  in  some  of  them, 
where  intemperance  and  lasciviousness  go  hand  in  hand,  and  the 
play-house  becomes  indeed  the  gate  to  hell.  But  the  picture  has 
already  become  too  disgusting,  though  only  an  outline;  and  it 
cannot  be  filled  up  without  shocking  decency  too  much. 

But,  if  these  faint  sketches  are  too  disgusting  for  detail,  I  can 
assure  my  readers,  that  they  are  but  rose-leaves  to  what  takes 
place  in  naval  and  military  depots.  My  heart  sickens  at  the  re- 
membrance ;  and  my  pen  refuses  to  develope  the  truth  of  those 
things  which  my  own  eyes  have  seen.  If  sin  makes  hell,  then  a 
British  man-of-war  is  indeed  "  a  floating  hell."  When  the  Royal 
George  sunk  at  Spithead,  six  hundred  lewd  women  went  down  in 
her ;  and  yet,  in  ships  anchored  near  the  wreck,  the  same  scenes 
are  acted  over,  and  allowed  by  the  Government,  as  necessary  to 
the  navy ! 

Do  yon  suppose  such  things  would  not  be  permitted  in  this 
country  ?  If  we  had  as  large  a  navy  as  Great  Britain,  we  should, 
like  her,  resort  to  impressment  to  keep  it  manned  ;  and  the  sailors, 
not  being  permitted  to  go  on  shore  for  fear  of  desertion,  would  be 
allowed  the  same  vicious  indulgences  to  keep  them  content  on 
board.  Our  females  are  by  nature  no  better  than  theirs  ;  and  their 
religious  privileges  are  fully  equal  to  ours.  The  same  causes 
would  produce  the  same  result  in  this  country.  In  France,  from 
what  I  have  heard,  I  believe,  the  state  of  morals  is  still  worse  than 
in  England — in  full  proportion  to  her  more  warlike  spirit.  In  this 
country,  the  corruption  has  begun ;  and  it  will  increase  with  our 
army  and  navy.  Will  not  Christians  labor  to  dry  up  this  prolific 
source  of  pollution,  profligacy  and  vice "? 

VI.  War  a  School  or  Profaneness. — There  are  vices 
which,  if  they  do  not  originally  grow  out  of  war,  are  much  pro- 
moted by  it ;  and  among  iJese  may  be  reckoned  the  heaven-daring 
sin  of  profanity.  Perhaps  the  soldier  may  have  some  peculiar 
temptation  to  this  sin.  Courage  is  the  only  mental  quality, 
except  implicit  obedience,  which  is  required  of  a  soldier.  If  he 
has  these  two,  he  may  be  destitute  of  every  other,  and  be  a  first- 
rate  soldier ;  and,  if  to  the  fierceness  of  a  tiger,  he  add  the  cunning 
of  a  fox,  he  may  become  a  hero.  He  who  braves  the  Almighty, 
may  think  himself  a  greater  hero  than  he  who  braves  only  his 
equals.  Hence  a  man  often  swears  to  show  his  courage ;  and,  as 
courage  is  more  esteemed  in  fleets  and  armies  than  any  where  else, 
it  is  there  most  practised.  To  swear  like  a  man-of-wars-man,  is  a 
common  expression  when  one  would  speak  of  great  profaneness. 
Whoever  has  been  on  board  a  man-of-war,  can  scarcely  help  no- 
ticing the  horrid  oaths  which  interlard  the  usual  orders  given  to 


i^  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  384 

sailors,  insomuch  that  some  have  expressed  the  grave  opinion, 
that  the  work  of  the  ship  could  not  be  done  without  swearing ! 

How  terrible  to  see  men  rushing*  on  mutual  destruction,  while 
imprecating:  damnation  on  themselves  and  others !  Col.  Gardiner 
was  shot  through  the  mouth,  "  while  he  was  calling  to  his  men, 
probably  in  that  horrid  language  which  is  so  peculiar  a  disgrace 
to  our  soldiery."  These  are  the  words  of  Dr.  Doddridge,  his 
biographer.  Whether  this  "  horrid  language  "  was  applied  to  his 
own  men,  or  the  enemy,  is  immaterial ;  for  to  curse  one's  enemies, 
or  one's  friends,  is  equally  offensive  to  God. 

The  example  set  in  the  camp  and  the  fleet,  has  a  lamentable 
effect  on  civil  society.  Navy  and  military  officers  are  considered 
fine  gentlemen,  smart  fellows ;  and  they  give  a  tone  to  society 
wherever  war  is  practised.  They  lead  the  fashion ;  and  therefore 
swearing,  though  one  of  the  most  vulgar  vices,  in  which  the  great- 
est blackguard  can  surpass  the  greatest  gentleman,  becomes,  by  the 
influence  of  the  army  and  navy,  fashionable  and  genteel. 

VII.  War  the  Origin  and  Support  of  Duelling, — It  is 
truf ,  and  strange  as  it  is  true,  that  the  practice  of  duelling  took  its 
rise  in  the  nominal  church  of  Christ,  and  is  a  relic  of  the  barbar- 
ous judicial  combat  of  the  dark  ages.  It  was  unknown  to  the 
ancients ;  and  its  present  practice  is  confined  to  Christendom,  it 
being  never  heard  of  among  savages  or  heathens.  It  originated 
in  the  absurd  opinion,  that  a  trial  of  valor  and  skill  was  an  "  appeal 
to  Heaven."  All  true  Christians  now  see  the  folly,  as  well  as  the 
impiety,  of  such  an  appeal,  so  far  as  individuals  are  concerned ; 
but  many  are  yet  utterly  blinded  when  they  apply  the  same  princi- 
ples to  nations.  What  is  war  but  a  national  duel  ?  What  war- 
rant is  there  in  the  gospel  for  one  more  than  the  other  ?  They 
originate  in  the  same  causes,  a  love  of  revenge,  or  a  fear  of  being 
thought  weak  or  pusillanimous ;  and  these  motives  are  almost  the 
only  ones  by  which  any  man  openly  defends  war.  Our  wars  are 
for  revenge,  or  to  preserve  our  honor;  for  a  nation  seldom  thinks 
of  noticing  the  ostensible  caiises  of  war  in  a  treaty  of  peace.  We 
have  fought ;  we  have  gained  glory ;  we  have  had  our  revenge, 
and  have  preserved  our  honor.     Just  so  with  the  duellist. 

Duelling,  however,  has  long  since  been  excluded  from  the 
church,  and  is  now  confined  to  that  class  of  men  who  fear  man 
more  than  God.  Indeed,  were  it  not  for  this  slavish  fear,  duelling 
would  cease  entirely  ;  for  it  has  never  been  found  necessary  to  the 
preservation  of  order  in  ctrir society,  though  many  have  supposed 
that  the  army  and  navy  could  not  get  along  without  it ;  that,  were 
it  not  for  fear  of  consequences,  the  gentlemen  of  war,  particularly 
in  their  cups,  would  abuse  one  another.  The  reason  why  duelling 
is  kept  up  is,  that  men  esteem  physical  courage,  more  than  they 
do  moral  courage,  or  any  other  virtue.  Especially  in  the  army 
and  navy,  physical  courage  is  indispensable ;  and  the  man  who  is 
wanting  in  it,  whatever  else  he  may  possess,  is  not  fit  for  a  soldier. 
To  doubt  a  soldier's  courage,  is  to  wound  his  honor  in  its  nicest 
point.     You  may  doubt  every  thing  else,  and  he  cares  not ;  nay, 


385  "  *  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  13 

he  often  boasts  of  his  vices ;  but,  if  he  suffers  his  courage  to  be 
called  in  question,  he  must  quit  the  service.  Therefore,  so  long  as 
the  custom  of  war  is  kept  up,  so  long  will  that  of  duelling  prevail. 
The  army  and  navy  have  the  same  influence  on  society,  in  re- 
spect to  duelling,  which  they  have  as  it  respects  profanity.  They 
set  the  fashion  which  will  always  be  followed  with  those  who  love 
the  honor  that  cometh  from  man,  more  than  they  do  the  approba- 
tion of  God,  so  long  as  our  youth  are  educated  in  the  belief  that 
courage  is  more  estimable  tlian  virtue.  So  long  as  Christian  na- 
tions uphold  the  custom  of  war,  so  long  will  the  custom  of  duelling 
continue.  Courts  of  honor  may  be  erected  to  abolish  the  custom ; 
but  they  will  be  altogether  in  vain  so  long  us  war  continues ;  for 
men  now  fight  duels  solely  because  the  parties  have  more  physical 
than  moral  courage,  and  ftar  being  called  cowards,  which  fear 
courts  of  honor  never  can  prevent  or  allay. 

VIII.   War  an  Obstacle  to  the  Revival  of  Religion. — 

Man  is  placed  here  in  a  state  of  trial  to  prepare  him  for  another 
world ;  and  every  thing  favorable  to  that  preparation,  should  be 
sedulously  cherished,  and  everything  unfavorable  carefully  avoided. 
Now,  nothing  can  be  more  unfavorable  to  self-examination,  the 
study  of  the  holy  scriptures,  and  prayer,  than  a  state  of  war.  Al- 
lowing the  war  to  be  ever  so  justifiable,  the  very  excitement,  the 
all-absorbing  interest,  which  engrosses  the  whole  soul  in  a  time  of 
war,  and  chains  it  down  to  things  of  time  and  sense,  militates 
strongly  against  revivals.  Suppose  that,  by  a  miracle  of  divine 
grace,  a  soldier  should  be  converted.  He  loves  God,  and  all  God's 
creatures.  How  can  he,  in  such  a  state  of  feeling,  plunge  his 
bayonet  into  the  heart  of  a  sinner,  and  send  him  to  everlasting 
perdition  ?  However  others  may  conceive  the  abstract  idea  of 
loving  an  enemy,  and  then  sending  his  soul  to  hell,  to  my  mind  it* 
is  perfectly  inconceivable.  The  very  object  of  war  is  to  distress 
the  enemy,  to  cut  off  his  supplies,  and  starve  him  into  submission. 
"  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink," 
are  commands  which  the  soldier  must  violate.  To  obey  them, 
would  be  to  subject  himself  to  the  charge  of  treason,  and  the  pun- 
ishment of  death.  If  he  then  lives  in  the  habitual  violation  of 
Christ's  commands  how  can  he  grow  in  grace  ?  A  young  convert 
loves  the  sanctuary  and  the  Sabbath;  but  he  is  commanded  to 
fight,  kill  and  destroy  on  that  holy  day.  How  can  he  be  in  the 
spirit  on  the  Lord's  day  ?  Can  we  suppose  that  a  general  would 
ever  pray  for  a  revival  in  his  army  ?  What  would  he  do  with  a 
revival  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  ?  It  would  destroy  all  his  hopes  of 
victory.  Accordingly  we  find,  that  the  most  able  generals  have 
deprecated  religion.  Bonaparte,  the  greatest  general  the  world 
ever  saw,  allowed  no  priests  in  his  army.  He  said  he  did  not  like  a 
religious  soldier ;  the  worse  the  man,  the  better  the  soldier ;  and,  if 
soldiers  were  not  corrupt,  they  should  be  made  so.  And  his  great 
success  showed  he  understood  human  nature  too  well. 

But  further  proof  is  superfluous.     There  can  be  no  hope  of  a  re- 
2 


14  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  386 

vival  in  time  of  war ;  and  though,  in  times  of  peace  when  the 
common  practices  of  war  are  suspended,  there  may  be  some  show 
of  religion  in  a  barrack,  I  fear  there  is  little  of  the  reality.  We 
heard,  some  years  ago,  of  a  revival  of  religion  at  West  Point 
Academy.  My  curiosity  was  much  excited  by  such  an  anomaly ; 
and  I  took  some  pains  to  inquire  of  the  chaplain  concerning  it. 
He  informed  me,  that  there  was  some  seriousness ;  but,  in  almost, 
if  not  quite  every  instance,  when  the  subject  of  it  did  not  leave  the 
institution,  his  religion  left  him,  and  the  chaplain  himself  left  also. 
This  was  in  peace,  and  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances. 
The  young  men  there  had  not  yet  become  contaminated  with 
scenes  of  bloodshed ;  yet  religion  could  not  live  there.  But  who 
ever  heard  of  a  revival  in  a  camp  or  barrack  in  a  time  of  war  ? 

Not  only  has  war  this  deplorable  effect  on  those  immediately 
engaged  in  it,  but  its  very  nature  is  calculated  to  destroy  all  reli- 
gious feeling  in  the  nation  that  wages  it  In  the  excitement  of 
war  caused  by  military  display,  the  noise  of  cannon,  drums  and 
fifes,  the  clangor  of  trumpets,  and  the  din  of  arms,  what  time  is 
there  for  religious  meditation  ?  All  the  conversation  turns  on  the 
news  of  the  war.  The  stillness  of  the  Sabbath  is  disturbed  by  the 
march  of  armies,  the  arrival  of  prizes,  the  rejoicing  for  victories, 
the  rage  of  defeat^  and  the  confusion  occasioned  by  preparation 
against  attack.  A  revival  of  religion  cannot  be  expected  at  such 
a  time;  and  facts,  I  believe,  will  "warrant  me  in  saying,  that  they 
seldom,  or  never,  occur.  A  great  revival  of  religion  commenced 
in  New  England  about  1740,  which  continued  at  intervals  down 
to  the  French  war  and  the  revolution.  There  were  a  few  partial 
revivals  at  the  commencement  of  the  latter ;  but  the  war  extin- 
guished them  all,  and  a  general  dissoluteness  of  manners  prevailed. 
This,  I  believe,  is  undeniable.  There  may  have  been  some  revivals 
•of  religion  during  the  last  war ;  but  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  ever 
heard  of  any.  Indeed,  my  proposition  is  almost  self-evident ;  and 
I  appeal  to  my  readers,  whether  war  does  not  in  fact  put  an  end  to 
revivals  of  religion. 

IX.  War  an  Obstacle  to  tHE  Spread  of  the  Gospel. — 
I  have  already  noticed  some  particular  modes  in  which  war  pro- 
motes sin,  and  opposes  piety  and  virtue  ;  but  I  have  not  named  all 
the  vices  and  sins  which  follow  in  its  train.  Besides  murder,  rob- 
bery, theft,  falsehood,  intemperance,  lasciviousness,  Sabbath  break- 
ing and  duelling,  I  might  mention  other  sinful  practices  which 
follow  in  the  wake  of  war  ;  for  there  is,  perhaps,  not  a  single  vice 
which  war  does  not  draw  after  it 

If  the  moral  evils  of  war,  by  which  it  sinks  millions  of  souls  into 
perdition,  were  confined  to  the  Christian  nations  that  carry  it  on, 
there  would  surely  be  sufficient  cause  for  the  most  active  opposi- 
tion to  it,  and  for  humble  and  fervent  prayer  to  God  for  its  cessa- 
tion ;  but  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  war  does  not  end  here.  It 
is  "  evil,  only  evil,  and  that  continually."  It  sheds  its  blighting 
influence  on  heathen  nations,  and  is  the  greatest  of  all  obstacles 
to  their  conversion.      Christians   not  only  have  destroyed  one 


387  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  15 

another  during  the  past  century  more  than  pagans  or  Mahometans, 
but  the  history  of  their  settlements  in  heathen  lands  is  written  in 
letters  of  blood.  The  sword  has  preceded  the,  gospel,  and  exter- 
mination has  followed  it.  No  wonder  it  is  so  difficult  to  convert 
the  heathen  to  Christianity.  As  in  Christian  lands  men  of  the 
world  judge  of  Christianity  more  by  the  conduct  of  Christians  than 
by  the  word  of  God,  so  the  heathen  read  the  gospel  in  the  history 
and  example  of  Christian  nations,  rather  than  in  the  Bible.  The 
natives  of  India  have  seen  the  Portuguese,  the  Dutch,  the  French 
and  the  English,  bearing  the  standard  of  the  cross,  arrive  on  their 
shores,  and,  after  having  spread  their  conquests  by  fire  and  sword, 
turn  on  each  other  their  deadly  weapons.  '  If  this  be  Christianity,' 
s;iythey, 'we  want  no  such  bloody  religion.'  The  emperor  of 
China  refused  the  admittance  of  the  Christian  religion  into  his  vast 
empire,  because,  said  he,  "  wherever  Christians  go,  they  whiten 
the  soil  with  human  bones."  O,  I  could  write  page  after  page  to 
to  show,  that  war  has  been  the  greatest  of  all  obstacles  to  the 
spread  of  the  gospel  among  heathen  nations. 

One  recent  event,  however,  I  must  notice.  In  the  islands  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  the  natives  had  seen  little  or  nothing  of  Christian 
warfare.  They  readily  embraced  Christianity.  Its  peaceful,  hum- 
bling truths  took  hold  on  their  feelings.  They  were  converted. 
They  read  the  gospel,  and  saw  clearly  that  it  prohibited  war.  They 
did  not  beat  their  spears  into  pruning-hooks,  for  happily  they  had 
no  vineyards ;  but  they  converted  the  points  of  them  into  instru- 
ments of  husbandry,  and  took  the  shafts  to  make  railings  for  the 
pulpit  stairs.  War  was  banished  from  among  them,  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  missionaries,  who,  it  seems,  were  not  prepared  for 
such  results  from  the  preaching  of  the  gospel.  It  led  them  to  con- 
sider whether  the  gospel  allows  war ;  and  they  were  converted  to 
the  principles  of  peace  by  their  own  disciples.  "  The  last  pulpit 
stairs  I  ascended  in  Rurutu,"  says  Rev.  Mr.  Ellis,  "were  railed  with 
warrior's  spears."  But  mark  the  change,  since  the  natives  have 
seen  more  of  Christians,  so  called.  They  find  that  Christians  bite 
and  devour  one  another ;  and  they  too  have  left  the  precepts  of 
Christ  to  follow  the  practice  of  his  professed  disciples.  Mark  the 
consequences.  In  the  Society  Islands,  says  Mr.  Orsmoud,  "  the 
insubordination,  confusion  and  disregard  of  the  ordinary  restraints, 
which  the  occurrence  of  actual  war  produced,  appear  to  have  in- 
creased the  evils  of  intemperance."  In  reference  to  the  effect  of 
war  on  many  of  the  people,  the  same  writer  observes,  "  I  have  seen 
more  wickedness  within  the  last  two  weeks  than  in  sixteen  years 
before."  The  ordinances  of  the  church  were  discontinued,  and 
these  once  peaceful  nations  have  sunk  back  to  nearly  their  original 
state.  Mr.  Simpson,  missionary  at  Eimeo,  says,  "  our  people  re- 
turned from  Tahiti  dreadfully  chagrined," — they  had  been  defeated, 
— -"  and  in  their  anger,  for  a  time,  determined  to  abandon  both  law 
and  gospel.  A  great  falling  off  in  our  adult  and  children's  school 
followed,  and  has  continued  to  a  great  extent  to  the  present  time." 
The  spears  have  disappeared  from  Rurutu ;  and  the  nations  now 
fight,  like  (JJiristians  here,  with  muskets.     That  rum  has  been  in 


rO  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  388 

part  the  cause  of  the  deplorable  change,  I  grant  New  England 
rum,  and  Old  England  muskets,  like  Herod  and  Pilate,  have  agreed 
in  crucifying  the  Prince  of  Peace  afresh. 

X.  Women  should  t)PPOSEWAR  because  so  degrading 
TO  themselves. — Should  I  descend  to  particulars  respecting  the 
degraded  condition  of  females  among  nations  that  delight  in  war, 
I  might  fill  a  volume  ;  but  it  would  be  both  disgusting  and  unne- 
cessary. Nor  let  the  matrons  of  our  country  think,  that  their  fair  and 
virtuous  daughters  would  be  exempted  from  tliese  evils,  if  ever 
America  should  be  infatuated  enough  to  desire  a  military  reputa- 
tion. The  females  of  England  who  crowd  the  navy  and  the  camp, 
or  are  thrown  degraded  on  an  unfeeling  world  by  some  gold-laced 
villain  who  has  lured  only  to  destroy,  were  some  of  them  once  as 
virtuous,  and  blessed  with  as  many  religious  privileges,  as  their 
own  daughters.  The  only  difference  is,  that  God  has  appointed 
their  habitation  in  a  land  where  arms  are  hardly  known  as  a  pro- 
fession. Let  them  thank  Him  who  has  made  them  to  differ,  and 
show  their  gratitude  by  doing  what  they  can  to  abolish  war. 

And  women  can  do  much.  "  Women  are  the  mothers  of  men ; " 
and  the  future  character  of  a  man  is  oflen  formed  in  the  nursery. 
The  characters  of  Alexander,  Charles  XH.  and  Napoleon,  those 
scourges  of  God,  were  formed  in  the  nursery,  and  the  school-room ; 
and,  did  we  know  the  early  history  of  their  compeers,  Attila, 
Jenghis-Khan  and  Tamerlane,  we  should  probably  find  it  similar. 
Let  matrons  then  look  carefully  to  the  education  of  their  children, 
and  sedulously  exclude  from  them  those  toys,  pictures,  histories 
and  poems  which  foster  a  military  spirit.  Let  ladies  of  every  age 
throw  the  weight  of  their  influence  into  the  scale  of  peace.  Let 
them  read  and  circulate  peace  tracts,  assist  in  forming  peace  so- 
cieties, contribute  their  mite,  make  their  ministers  life-members  of 
the  peace  society,  and  above  all  pray  for  the  success  of  this  cause. 

XI.  Claims   of   Peace    on  Ministers  of  the  Gospel. — 

Ministers  of  the  Gospel  are  ambassadors  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
and  bound  to  take  him  for  their  pattern  and  example.  Did  he  ever 
engage  in  war,  or  have  any  concern  in  it  ?  If  not,  how  can  his 
representatives  take  any  share  in  it  ?  The  first  sermon  which  he 
preached  on  earth,  was  a  peace  sermon,  the  first  that  was  ever 
preached.  How  many  ministers,  who  have  lived  in  the  world 
longer  than  he  did,  have  never  preached  a  peace  sermon  in  all 
their  lives !  Do  they  faithfully  represent  the  Prince  of  Peace,  or 
do  they  "  shun  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God  ? "  Christ 
blessed  the  peace-makers,  and  in  that  act  blessed  the  cause  of 
peace.  Can  that  minister  be  called  a  peace-maker,  who  has  never 
preached  on  the  subject,  or  prayed  for  a  blessing  on  the  exertions 
of  the  friends  of  peace  ?  Can  he  who  gives  his  sanction  to  war  by 
acting  as  chaplain  at  a  militia  muster  where  men  meet  together  to 
learn  tJie  art  of  homicide,  or  to  a  regiment,  or  man-of-war  engaged 
in  putting  these  lessons  into  practice,  and  sending  Imndreds  of  im- 
mortal souls  to  perdition,  say  he  is  the  imitator  of  (Jirist  ?    Did 


389  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  17 

Christ,  or  any  of  his  apostles,  ever  appear  on  the  field  of  mortal 
strife  ?  There  is  no  record  of  any  such  example ;  nor  did  any 
Christians  engage  in  war  for  the  first  two  centuries  of  our  era. 

The  success  of  the  cause  of  peace  rests  on  the  church  in  general, 
and  on-ministers  in  particular.  It  is  in  their  power,  whenever  they 
will  unite  for  the  purpose,  to  put  an  end  to  war  in  Christendom. 
If  they  neglect  to  do  what  they  can,  blood,  not  only  the  blood  of 
the  body,  but  the  blood  of  souls,  will  be  found  in  the  skirts  of  their 
garments.  Hitherto  the  still,  small  voice  of  the  gospel  could  hardly 
be  heard  amid  the  confused  noise  of  the  warrior ;  but  God  has,  for 
a  long  time,  wonderfully  preserved  the  nations  of  Christendom  in 
a  state  of  comparative  peace,  and  I  have  no  doubt  the  labors  of  the 
peace  societies  have  been  greatly  blessed  to  this  end.  There  is 
no  need  of  ministers  interfering  with  the  politics  of  the  day.  Sim- 
ply to  preach  on  this  subject,  or  to  meet  with  their  flocks,  and  pray 
for  a  continuance  ■©f  peace,  can  give  no  offence  to  any  party.  If 
they  have  any  faith  in  prayer,  any  trust  in  the  promises  of  God, 
can  they  refuse  ?  Churches  look  up  to  their  ministers  for  example. 
They  cannot,  or  will  not,  act  without  tlieir  head.  If  ministers 
refuse  their  aid  to  the  work,  it  can  never  be  done  ;  and  although 
God  has  promised  a  time  when  nations  shall  learn  war  no  more, 
this  event  will  not  arrive,  until  ministers  take  up  the  cause  of 
peace  in  good  earnest.  It  requires  a  special  effort,  more  than  the 
cause  of  missions  or  temperance.  It  is  greater  than  either ;  for  on 
it  these  two  mainly  depend. 

XII.  Promise  of  Success  in  the  Word  of  God. — If  God 
had  not  promised  a  time  when  nations  shall  learn  war  no  more,  I 
should  never  have  called  the  attention  of  Christians  to  this  object ; 
for,  without  such  promises,  I  should  never  have  thought  it  attain- 
able. But  I  have  full  faith  in  the  "  sure  word  of  propliecy,"  which, 
at  the  same  time  that  it  foretells  the  advent  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
foretells  that  his  religion,  when  rightly  understood  and  practised, 
will  forever  abolish  war  among  his  disciples,  and  finally  through- 
out the  whole  earth ;  and  when  I  see  that  the  precepts  he  taught, 
forbid  war,  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  prophecies  will  begin  to  be 
fulfilled  as  soon  as  hi^  church  shall  undertake  the  work. 

The  prophecies  which  foretell  the  abolition  of  war,  are  too  nu- 
merous to  be  quoted.  See  Isaiah  ii.  '2 — 4,  and  xi.  1 — 9,  Hosea  ii. 
18,  and  Micah  iv.  1 — 4,  which  closes  thus:  "and  they  shall  beat 
their  swords  into  ploughshares  and  their  spears  into  pruning  hooks ; 
nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  they 
learn  war  any  more."  Now,  who  will  dare  to  doubt  this  word  of  the 
Lord?  But  are  we  to  suppose  that,  because  God  has  promised 
these  things,  we  may  fold  our  hands  in  indolence,  and  do  nothing  ? 
We  do  not  reason  so  on  any  other  subject.  God  has  promised  to 
give  his  Son  the  heathen  for  his  inheritance ;  but  so  far  is  this  from 
preventing  our  prayers  and  labors  to  convert  the  heathen,  that  it  is 
the  very  reason  we  give  for  our  exertions.  By  what  strange  fa- 
tality is  it,  that  Christians  look  to  heathen  lands,  and  neglect 
Christendom,  laboring  with  a  laudable  zeal  to  convert  the  heathen, 


18  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  890 

while  they  leave  the  greatest  obstacle  to  their  conversion  untouch- 
ed? We  pray  for  the  success  of  missions;  but  alas!  how  few 
pray  that  the  horrible  custom  of  war  among  Christians,  which  pre- 
vents the  advancement  of  Christianity  bo3i  at  home  and  abroad, 
should  be  abolished! 

*  Ah !  but,'  say  some  Christians,  *  wars  will  be  abolished  when 
the  millennium  comes,  not  before.  Let  us  labor  to  make  all  men 
Christians,  and  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves  about  universal 
peace;  that  will  come  of  course.' — This  is  making  cause  and 
effect  change  places.  As  well  might  the  husbandman  say  in  the 
spring,  '  I  need  not  trouble  myself  about  planting  corn ;  I  shall 
have  a  crop  when  the  harvest  comes ;  for  God  has  promised  that 
seed  time  and  harvest  shall  not  fail.'  We  can  hardly  suppose  any 
man  could  be  so  foolish ;  but  it  is  just  the  way  many  people  reason 
with  respect  to  war.  Do  they  reason  so  on  any  other  subject  ? 
Do  they  say,  when  the  millennium  comes,  all  ,men  will  be  tem- 
perate ;  let  intemperance  alone  until  the  millennium  ?  Far  other- 
wise, yet  they  virtually  say,  '  let  Christians  continue  to  kill  one 
another,  and  glory  in  it,  until  the  millennium.'  Instead  of  saying 
wars  cannot  cease  until  the  millennium,  we  say  tlie  millennium  can 
never  come  until  wars  cease.  It  is  morally  impossible  that  heathen 
nations  can,  to  any  great  extent,  be  converted,  while  Christian 
nations  continue  the  custom  of  war.  This  Achan  in  our  camp 
paralyzes  all  the  exertions  of  our  missionary  armies.  It  is  the  scoff 
and  scorn  of  the  Jew,  the  stumbling-block  of  the  heathen  and  the 
Mussulman.  "  Why  do  you  come  here,  Wolfe  ?  "  said  a  Jew  to 
that  missionary  in  Jerusalem.  "  To  preach  the  gospel  of  peace," 
replied  Wolfe.  "  Peace ! "  retorted  the  Jew,  "  look  there  at  Cal- 
vary, where  your  different  sects  of  Christians  would  fight  for  an 
empty  sepulchre,  if  the  sword  of-  the  Mussulman  did  not  restrain 
you.    When  the  true  Messiah  comes,  he  will  banish  war." 

It  is  remarked  by  experienced  Christians,  that  God  seldom,  or 
never,  grants  a  revival  when  the  state  of  religion  in  the  church  is 
low,  and  for  the  best  of  reasons.  Converts  will  con^e  up  only  to 
the  standard  of  the  church  tliat  receives  them.  The  higher  her 
standard,  not  only  the  more,  but  the  purer  will  be  her  converts. 
So  of  the  church  universal — while  she  allows  war,  intemperance, 
and  kindred  practices,  her  converts,  what  few  there  may  be,  will 
allow  themselves  in  the  very  same.  Had  tlie  primitive  church 
allowed  polygamy,  that  vicious  custom  would  have  remained  in 
the  church ;  and  if  the  church  continue  to  allow  war,  war  will  con- 
tinue to  the  end  of  the  world.  The  heathen  cannot  be  converted 
until  the  church  renounces  and  denounces  war.  They  would  be 
converted  only  to  a  fighting  Christianity  which  would  brin^  the 
millennium  no  nearer.  But  let  the  church  renounce  all  the  Jibom- 
inations  of  the  world,  particularly  war;  and  the  heathen,  seeing 
the  peace  and  purity  of  Christianity,  will  of  themselves  flock  to  her. 
Their  conversion  will  be  tlie  effect,  not  the  cause.  God  has  prom- 
ised the  time  when  nations  shall  learn  war  no  more ;  and  when 
Christian  nations  shall  set  the  example,  he  will  crown  with  success 
their  labors  to  convert  the  heathen. 


1 


-ff89i  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  19 

'  XIII.  The  Cause  of  Peace  belongs  to  Christians. — Chris- 
tians are  the  salt  of  the  earth  ;  but  if  the  salt  hath  lost  its  savor, 
wherewith  shall  it  be  salted  ?  Are  they  to  look  to  the  world  for 
an  example,  and  expect  it  to  go  ahead  of  them  in  accomplishing  the 
will  of  God  ?  They  are  the  light  of  the  world.  If  that  light  shall 
be  obscured  or  put  out,  are  they  to  borrow  light  from  morality, 
philanthropy,  or  other  unbaptized  virtues  ?  No,  an  extinguished 
sun  might  as  well  be  lighted  by  a  taper.  Let  us  pray,  5iat  the 
cloud  of  prejudice  on  the  subject  of  war  may  be  removed,  and  the 
church  shine  in  all  the  splendor  which  she  at  first  exhibited,  when 
no  one  was  justified  in  rendering  evil  for  evil — when  the  church 
preached  and  practised  tlie  duty  of  loving  enemies,  and  overcoming 
evil  with  good. 

I  have  endeavored  to  produce  a  few  reasons  why  all  who  profess 
to  be  governed  by  Christian  principles,  should  put  their  shoulders 
to  this  work,  and  call  on  God  for  help ;  but  do  any  ask,  what  can 
we  do  ?  I  answer,  just  the  same  that  you  do  for  the  conversion 
of  the  heathen.  Let  every  minister  of  the  gospel  labor  to  unde- 
ceive his  people  as  to  the  true  nature  of  war,  and  show  its  absolute 
inconsistency  with  the  religion  of  Christ.  Christian  nations  must 
first  be  converted  from  this  sin.  All  its  abominations  should  be 
clearly  pointed  out ;  and  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  war  should 
be  clearly  brought  to  light.  Next,  let  the  churches  unite  in  humble 
and  hearty  prayer  to  Almighty  God,  that  he  would  remember  his 
promise,  and  '  do  as  he  hath  said.'  Let  them  pray,  and  pray  fer- 
vently, that  wars  may  cease  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  An  annual 
concert  of  prayer  is  recommended  on  or  near  the  !<J5th  of  December 
in  each  year ;  and,  if  a  majority  of  the  churches  in  this  country 
would  unite  in  observing  some  part  of  that  day  or  evening  to  im- 
plore God's  blessing  on  tlie  cause  of  peace,  might  we  not  expect 
that  the  churches  of  England,  where  tlie  peace  cause  has  many 
more  efficient  friends  than  it  has  in  this  country,  would  imitate  our 
example,  as  tliey  have  in  the  temperance  cause  ?  If  the  churches 
generally  in  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  should  engage  in 
this  concert,  would  it  be  possible  for  the  rulers  of  either  country 
to  declare  war  against  the  other?  When  this  concert  of  prayer 
has  been  established  in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain,  it  is 
reasonable  to  expect  that  evangelical  churches  on  the  continent, 
and  through  the  world,  will  eventually  jom  in  it.  Who  that  has 
any  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  can  doubt  that  such  prayers 
would  be  answered  ?  Christian  rulers  would  not  dare  to  declare 
war,  when  they  saw  the  best  part  of  their  subjects  engaged  in 
prayer  against  it.  War  would  begin  to  be  considered  as  a  sin, 
a  relic  of  barbarism,  and  would  be  abandoned  by  all  Christian  and . 
civilized  people.  Disputes  might  still  arise  among  nations  ;  but 
war  never  was,  and  never  will  be,  necessary  to  settle  them,  any 
more  than  boxing  and  duelling  are  necessary  to  settle  disputes 
between  individuals.  Nations  can,  if  they  will,  as  easily  find  some 
peaceable  method  of  settling  their  difficulties,  as  professors  of  re- 
ligion find  a  way  to  settle  difficulties  in  the  church  without  resort- 
ing to  personal  violence.    Arbitration,  or  a  congress  of  nations, 


20  SOLEMN    APPEAL.  303 

might  take  the  place  of  war  ;^^and  then  Christians  would  wonder 
that  they  had  ever  countenanced  this  diabolical  custom. 

The  effect  of  the  abolition  of  war  would  be  great  and  glorious. 
Virtue  would  flourish ;  learning  and  religion  would  go  hand  in 
hand  ;  the  yoke  of  tyranny  and  oppression  would  be  broken ;  in- 
temperance would  hide  lier  blushing  head ;  the  Sabbath  would  be 
observed;  moral  reform  would  advance;  swearing  and  duelling 
would  go  out  of  fashion ;  and  theft,  robbery  and  murder  would 
seldom  be  heard  of.  The  mouths  of  infidels  would  be  stopped ; 
for  the  prophecies  would  be  fulfilled,  and  the  precepts  of  Christ 
universally  prevail.  All  objections  of  the  Jews  against  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  drawn  from  belligerent  nominal  Christians,  would 
be  removed.  Mohammedans  would  admire  the  wondjous  change, 
and  open  their  hearts  to  receive  the  gospel ;  heathens  would  send 
to  us  for  missionaries  and  the  Bible ;  and,  when  the  vast  expenses 
of  war  should  be  turned  into  the  treasury  of  the  Lord,  missionaries 
and  Bibles  could  be  easily  furnished  for  the  whole  world. 

But  how  is  this  great  change  to  be  effected  ?  The  means  are 
so  simple  that  it  is  difficult  to  make  men  believe  so  great  a  cure 
can  be  performed  by  so  simple  means.  It  is  only  necessary  that 
those  Christians  who  believe  war  to  be  a  heaven-daring,  soul- 
destroying  sin,  and  tliat  God  is  able  and  willing  to  perform  his 
promise  when  his  children  shall  require  it  of  him,  should  pray  for 
its  abolition,  and  send  publications,  tracts  and  agents  to  lay  these 
views  before  their  sister  churches  all  over  the  world  ;  and  the  work 
would  speedily  be  accomplished. 

But  how  are  such  operations  to  be  carried  on  ?  Just  as  other 
enterprises  of  benevolence — by  the  contributions  of  Christians. 
Let  every  church  observe  the  peace  prayer-meeting,  and  take  up  a 
contribution  for  the  cause.  Let  peace  societies  be  formed  in  every 
church  and  society.  Let  the  ladies  form  themselves  into  peace 
societies,  and  make  their  ministers  and  minister's  wives  life  mem- 
bers of  the  American  Peace  Society.  Let  them  also  be  careful  to 
educate  their  children  in  peace  principles,  and  in  every  way  give 
their  influence  to  the  cause.  Finally,  let  all  men  and  women  give 
the  subject  a  fair  and  impartial  investigation.  Use  the  means, 
and  the  cause  must  triumph. 

For  aid  in  tliis  work,  we  turn  to  the  church  of  Christ,  the  Prince 
of  Peace  ;  for  God  will  honor  his  church  by  making  her  the  in- 
strument of  abolishing  war,  nor  will  he  ever  give  that  glory  to  the 
world.  Large  and  numerous  ecclesiastical  bodies  have  recom- 
mended that  ministers  preach,  and  churches  hold  a  concert  of 
prayer  for  the  peace  cause,  and  take  up  a  collection,  once  eAfery 
year.  Shall  their  recommendations  be  unavailing  ?  Do  Christians 
believe  that  the  soul  is  immortal ;  that  a  vast  majority  of  those  who 
perish  in  battle,  go  down  to  endless  perdition ;  that  war  is  the 
mother  of  all  abominations,  and  the  greatest  obstacle  to  the  spread 
of  .v.ital  piety  both  at  home  and  abroad  ?  And  will  they  refuse  to 
offer  their  prayers  and  their  alms  for  its  abolition  ? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XX.IV. 

THE    BATTLE-FIELD. 


The  sword  is  not  the  only  nor  the  chief  destroyer  of  life  in  war ; 
yet  the  field  of  battle  multiplies  its  victims  with  the  most  fearful 
rapidity.  It  is  the  grand  carnival  of  the  war-god  ;  and  fiercely 
does  this  Moloch  riot  there  in  fire  and  blood,  in  shrieks  and  groans, 
in  a  sort  of  temporary  hell  upon  earth  ! 

Imagine  yourself  on  some  lofty  eminence  surveying  a  field  of 
battle  like  CannsB  or  iVrbela,  Austerlitz  or  Borodino,  Lei^sic  or 
Waterloo.  A  forest  of  swords  and  bayonets  are  bristling  there  ; 
the  fierce  war-horses  are  pawing  the  earth  impatient  for  the 
onset ;  and  thousands  on  either  side  are  waiting,  with  compressed 
yet  quivering  lip,  for  the  signal  to  begin  the  work  of  mutual 
slaughter.  At  length  that  signal  is  given ;  and  anon  the  whole 
field,  wrapt  in  flame  and  smoke,  is  hid  from  your  view ;  but  the 
roar  of  cannon,  and  the  rattle  of  musketry,  and  the  clashing  of 
arms,  and  the  furious  shouts,  and  the  agonizing  shrieks,  and  the 
dying  groans,  all  tell  you  that  the  work  of  death  is  going  on  with 
horrible  rapidity.  Now  the  smoke  rolls  off  from  part  of  the  field ; 
and  you  see  whole  battalions  riddled,  rank  after  rank  mowed  down 
by  the  deathful  volleys  of  artillery,  and  descry  the  wounded,  the 
dying  and  the  dead  strewed  far  and  near,  while  soldiers,  and 
horses,  and  cannon  are  passing  and  repassing  over  them  in  the 
fight. 

Night  closes  the  scene,  but  leaves  its  victims  still  on  the  ground 
either  cold  in  death,  or  moaning  in  despair,  or  howling  in  agony. 
Wait  till'  another  morn,  and  then  go  over  that  field.  What  a 
human  slaughter-yard  !  Wherever  your  eye  now  turns,  you  be- 
hold men,  and  horses,  and  weapons,  and  broken  carriages,  all 
mingled  in  most  shocking  confusion.  At  every  step,  you  tread  in 
blood  that  only  yesterday  flowed,  warm  as  your  own,  in  the  veins 
of  a  father,  a  son  or  a  brother.  The  wounded,  the  dying,  the  dead 
are  all  heaped  together ;  and  already  have  the  wolf  and  the  vulture 
come  to  prey  upon  them  without  distinction.  Friends,  too,  are 
here  in  quest  of  these  fallen  victims.  Yonder  is  a  wife,  a  mother, 
a  sister,  each  frantic  with  grief,  searching  on  this  field  of  blood  for 
a  husband,  a  son,  a  brother.  -  Here  is  a  wretch  with  his  limbs 
.  horribly  mangled,  yet  still  alive  ;  and  there  is  another  all  covered 
with  blood,  and  crushed  by  the  tread  of  the  war-horse,  or  the 
wheels  of  cannon  passing  over  him.  Yonder  is  an  athletic  frame 
that  had  struggled  hard  against  his  pains,  and  survived  his  mortal 
wounds  long  enough  in  his  anguish  to  gnaw  the  turf  with  his 
teeth,  and  plough  the  earth  with  his  hands.  Here  is  another  still 
that  had  dragged  himself  along  in  his  own  gore  till  death  kindly 
released  him  from  his  agonies  ;  and  yonder  is  a  young  man  of  fair 

p.  T.       NO.    XLIV. 


2  THE    BATTLE-FIELD.  3M 

form  and  noble  mien,  who  felt  the  dews  of  death  fast  settling  on 
his  brow,  and,  knowing  his  hour  had  come,  pulled  from  his  bosom 
the  last  letter  of  a  mother,  the  picture  of  a  wife,  or  the  braided 
lock  of  a  loved  and  plighted  one,  and,  pressing  the  fond  memorial 
to  his  lips,  expired  with  no  kind  one  near  to  ease  his  dying  head, 
or  catch  his  last  farewell. 

Would  to  God  that  this  were  all !  But  every  battle  is  followed 
by  a  long  train  of  the  keenest  sufferings.  Often  are  thousands 
left  day  after  day  stretched  on  the  open  field,  witliout  food,  or 
drink,  or  any  shelter  from  scorching  suns,  from  drenching  rains, 
from  the  damps  and  chills  of  night,  or  even  from  the  voracity  of 
famished  beasts  of  prey,  till  multitudes  linger  out  a  most  miserable 
death^^he  wounds  of  many  become  incurable,  and  the  excruciating 
pains  of  otliers  drive  them  to  madness. 

Go  to  a  hospital  crowded  with  such  victims — victims  jolted 
thither,  days  and  even  weeks  after  the  battle,  in  rude  carts,  with 
their  undressed  wounds  all  festering  and  gangrened  !  Here  is  a 
limb  shattered  to  pieces,  and  there  another  torn  almost  from  the 
body.  Yonder  is  a  wretch  with  his  skull  fractured,  his  jaw  broken, 
an  eye  dislocated,  or  crushed  in  its  socket  Here  is  one  feebly 
gasping  in  death,  and  there  another  driven  to  madness  by  his 
sufferings,  raving  in  wild,  fierce  delirium,  and  pouring  forth  a 
torrent  of  horrid  imprecations.  Here  you  behold  one  pleading 
piteously  for  the  surgeon's  knife  to  ease  his  pains,  and  yonder 
another  writhing  and  shrieking  under  an  operation  more  painful 
than  even  his  wounds. 

But  let  us  look  at  a  single  one  of  these  sufferers.  '  In  the 
melee,'  says  Gen.  Ponsonby  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 
'  I  was  almost  instantly  disabled  in  both  arms ;  and,  followed  by  a 
few  of  my  men  who  were  at  once  cut  down,  I  was  carried  along 
by  my  horse,  till  receiving  a  blow  from  a  sabre,  I  fell  senseless  on 
my  face  to  the  ground.  Recovering,  I  raised  myself  a  little  to 
look  around,  being  unable  to  get  up,  and  run  away,  when  a  lancer 
passing  by,  struck  his  lance  through  my  back.  My  head  dropped, ' 
the  blood  gushed  into  my  mouth,  and  a  difiiculty  of  breathing 
came  on.  A  soldier  stopped  to  plunder  me,  and  threatened  my 
life.  I  directed  him  to  a  small  side-pocket,  where  he  found  three 
dollars,  all  I  had.  But  he  still  threatened,  and  I  said  he  might 
search  me,  which  he  immediately  did,  unloosing  my  stock,  tearing 
open  my  waistcoat,  and  leaving  me  in  a  very  uneasy  posture.  No 
sooner  \tas  he  gone  than  an  officer,  bringing  up  some  troops,  and 
happening  to  halt  where  I  lay,  stooped  down,  and  addressed  me, 
saying  he  feared  I  was  badly  wounded.  I  told  him  I  was,  and  - 
expressed  a  wish  to  be  carried  to  the  rear.  He  said  it  was  against 
their  orders  to  remove  even  their  own  men ;  but,  if  they  gained 
the  day,  as  he  expected  they  would,  every  attention  in  his  power 
should  be  shown  me.  I  complained  of  thirst ;  and  he  held  his 
bottle  to  my  lips,  directing  one  of  his  soldiers  to  lay  me  straight 
on  my  side,  and  place  a  knapsack  under  my  head.  He  then  passed 
on  into  action ;  and  I  never  knew  to  whom  I  was  thus  indebted 
for  my  life. 


395  THE    BATTLE-FIELD.  *  3: 

*  It  was  dusk  when  two  squadrons  of  Prussian  cavalry,  each  of 
them  two  deep,  came  across  the  valley,  and  passed  me  in  full  trot, 
lifting  me  from  the  ground,  and  tumbling  me  about  cruelly.  This 
was  horrid  enough ;  but  a  gun  taking  that  direction,  must  have 
destroyed  me. — The  battle  was  now  at  an  end  ;  but  the  groans  of 
the  wounded  all  around  me  became  every  instant  more  and  more 
audible.  There  I  lay  in  my  agony,  and  Uiought  the  night  would 
never  end.  About  this  time  I  found  a  soldier  lying  across  my 
legs.  Tie  had  probably  crawled  thither  in  his  anguish ;  and  his 
weight,  his  convulsive  motions,  his  doleful  noises,  and  the  air 
rushing  through  a  wound  in  his  side,  distressed  me  greatly — the 
last  circumstance  more  than  all,  as  I  had  a  wound  of  the  same 
nature  myself.  Several  stragglers  of  our  own  allies,  wandering 
about  in  quest  of  plunder,  came  one  after  another  to  look  at  me, 
and  at  last  one  stopped  to  examine  me.  I  told  him  I  was  a  British 
officer,  and  had  been  plundered  already ;  yet  he  did  not  desist, 
but  pulled  me  about  roughly.  Near  midnight,  I  saw  a  man  in 
English  uniform  walking  towards  me. ,  I  spoke  instantly  to  him, 
told  him  who  I  was,  and  offered  him  a  reward  to  remain  with  me. 
He  relieved  me  from  the  dying  soldier,  and  stood  over  me  as  a 
sentinel  till  day  broke,  when,  a  messenger  being  sent  to  Hervey, 
a  cart  came,  and  carried  me,  a  mile  and  a  half,  to  the  village  of 
Waterloo,  where  I  was  found  to  have  received  seven  wounds.' 

Let  us  hear  the  testimony  of  some  eye-witnesses.  '  The  battle  of 
Preuss-Eylau  was  suspended  awhile ;  and  never  did  a  more  horrid 
spectacle  present  itself!  Fifty- thousand  men  killed  and  wounded 
since  sun-rise,  and  a  great  part  of  them,  being  struck  by  cannon 
shot,  exposed  still  on  the  ground  without  any  means  or  hopes  of 
succor !  Near  fifty  thousand  more,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and 
exhausted  with  hunger,  were  unable  to  keep  the  field,  and  about 
to  abandon  their  mangled  comrades  who  vainly  implored  their 
assistance  and  protection ! 

'  The  cannon  thundered  at  Heilsberg,  and  the  musketry  rolled, 
illuminating  the  atmosphere  with  continued  flame,  until  the  com- 
bat gradually  relaxed ;  but  a  little  before  ten  at  night,  a  deserter 
came  over  to  the  Russians,  and  informed  the  general  that  another 
assault  was  preparing  from  the  wood.  Soon  the  batteries  were 
opened,  and  the  fury  of  battle  raged  again ;  but  the  assailants, 
unable  to  force  the  passage,  fell  back  almost  annihilated,  and 
shouted,  cease  the  fight.  The  massacre  was  terminated  ;  but  the 
uproar  of  conflict  was  followed  by  the  groans  of  the  wounded 
who,  tortured  with  pain,  and  anticipating  a  renewal  of  the  fight  on 
the  morrow,  in  vain  implored  removal,  relief,  and  even  death. 
When  the  light  broke,  a  most  disgusting  sight  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  both  the  armies.  The  ground  between  them,  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  was  a  sheet  of  naked  human  bodies  which  friends 
and  foes  had  during  the  night  mutually  stripped,  not  leaving  the 
poorest  rag  upon  them,  although  numbers  were  still  alive,  and  re- 
tained consciousness  of  their  situation ! ' 

Glance  at  the  battle-field  of  Borodino.     '  As  we  passed  over  thQ 


4  THE  -  BATTLE-FIELD.  396 

^und  which  the  Russians  had  occupied,  we  could  judge  of  the 
immense  loss  they  had  sustained.  In  the  space  of  nine  square 
miles,  almost  every  spot  was  covered  with  the  killed  or  wounded ! 
On  many  places  the  bursting  of  shells  had  promiscuously  heaped 
together  men  and  horses.  The  fire  of  our  howitzers  had  been  so 
destructive,  that  mountains  of  dead  bodies  were  scattered  over  the 
plain ;  but  the  most  horrid  spectacle  was  in  the  interior  of  the 
ravines,  where  those  of  the  wounded  who  were  able  to  drag  them- 
selves along,  had  taken  refuge  to  avoid  the  shot  These  miserable 
wretches,  heaped  one  upon  another,  and  almost  suffocated  with 
blood,  uttering  the  most  dreadful  groans,  and  invoking  death  with 
piercing  cries,  eagerly  besought  us  to  end  their  torments  by  killing 
them  on  the  spot ! ' 

Take  the  following  account  of  scenes  after  the  battle  of  Soldin, 
from  the  pen  of  a  clergyman.  <  At  one  o'clock  the  cannonading 
ceased ;  and  I  went  out  on  foot  as  far  as  Soldin  to  learn  to  whose 
advantage  the  battle  had  turned.  Towards  evening,  seven  hun- 
dred Russian  fugitives  came  to  Soldin,  a  most  pitiful  sight !  some 
holding  up  their  hands,  cursing  and  swearing;  others  praying, 
and  praising  the  king  of  Prussia;  without  hats,  without  clothes  ; 
some  on  foot,  others  two  on  a  horse,  with  their  heads  and  arms 
tied  up ;  some  dragging  along  by  the  stirrups,  and  others  by  the 
tails  of  the  horses. — When  the  battle  was  decided  in  favor  of  the 
Prussians,  I  ventured  to  tlie  place  where  the  cannonading  had 
been.  After  walking  some  way,  a  Cossack's  horse  came  running 
full  speed  towards  me.  I  mounted  him  :  and  on  my  way  for  seven 
miles  and  a  half  on  this  side  the  field  of  battle,  I  found  the  dead 
and  wounded  lying  on  the  ground,  sadly  cut  in  pieces.  The  fur- 
ther I  advanced,  the  more  these  poor  creatures  lay  heaped  one 
upon  another.  That  scene  I  shall  never  forget.  The  Cossacks, 
as  soon  as  they  saw  me,  cried  out.  Dear  sir,  water,  water,  water  ! 
Righteous  God!  what  a  sight!  Men,  women  and  children,  Rus- 
sians and  Prussians,  carriages  and  horses,  oxen,  chests  and  bag- 
gage, all  lying  one  upon  another  to  the  height  of  a  man !  and 
seven  villages  around  me  in  flames,  and  the  inhabitants  eitlier 
massacred,  or  thrown  into  tlie  fire! — Nor  were  the  embers  of 
mutuaLrage  yet  extinguished  in  the  hearts  of  the  combatants ;  for 
the  poor  wounded  were  still  firing  at  each  other  in  the  greatest 
exasperation !  The  field  of  battle  was  a  plain  two  miles  and  a 
half  long,  and  so  entirely  covered  with  dead  and  wounded,  that 
there  was  not  even  room  to  set  my  foot  without  treading  on  some 
of  them !  Several  brooks  were  so^filled  up  with  Russians,  that 
they  lay  heaped  one  upon  another  as  high  as  two  men,  and  ap- 
peared like  hills  to  the  even  ground!  I  could  hardly  recover  my- 
self from  the  fright  occasioned  by  the  miserable  outcries  of  the 
wounded.  A  noble  Prussian  officer,  who  had  lost  both  his  legs, 
cried  out  to  me.  Sir,  you  are  a  priest,  and  preach  mercy ;  pray, 
show  me  some  compassion,  and  despatch  me  at  once.* 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XliV. 

INEFFICACY    OF    WAR, 


OR 
THE    SWORD    A    SUICIDAL    RESORT. 


BF    HON.  WILLIAM   JAY. 


The  only  avowed  aim  of  war  is  the  removal  of  some  present,  or 
the  prevention  of  some  future  evil ;  and,  could  we  even  be  sure  of 
success,  its  wisdom  would  still  depend  on  the  proportion  between 
its  cost,  and  the  value  of  the  object  to  be  gained.  But  war,  as 
Jefferson  well  said,  is  an  instrument  wholly  uncertain  in  its  opera- 
tion, and  frequently,  if  not  generally,  occasions  more  evil  than  it 
cures  or  prevents. 

It  is  customary  for  nations  to  appeal  to  heaven  for  the  justice 
of  their  cause.  Such  appeals  are  rarely  sincere,  and  too  often  are 
more  likely  to  repel  than  invite  Divine  assistance ;  but,  whether 
sincere  or  not,  the  justice  of  the  cause  affords  little,  if  any,  ground 
for  anticipating  the  favorable  interposition  of  heaven.  Both  sacred 
and  profane  history  teach  us,  that  base  and  perfidious  men  have 
often  waged  with  success  most  iniquitous  wars;  and  that  con- 
querors, like  other  instruments  of  wrath,  are  but  agents  in  execu- 
ting Divine  judgments.  Nations  are  all  more  or  less  deserving  of 
punishment;  and  it  frequently  comports  with  the  providence  of 
God  to  inflict  that  punishment  by  permitting  them  to  be  the  prey 
of  lawless  violence. 

If  the  result  of  war,  then,  is  wholly  independent  of  the  justice 
of  its  orign,  on  what  is  it  dependent  ?  To  this  the  common  reply 
is,  the  relative  strength  and  skill  of  the  parties ;  but  the  race  is  not 
always  to  the  swifl,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong.  A  powerful  na- 
tion has  oflen  been  foiled  in  its  attempts  upon  a  weak  one,  and 
numerous  are  the  instances  in  which  unexpected  revolutions  and 
alliances  have  turned  the  tide  of  war.  Indeed,  the  very  existence 
of  war  is  owing  to  the  uncertainty  of  its  result;  for  it  is  obvious 
that,  if  success  could  be  distinctly  foreseen,  the  party  doomed  to 
defeat  would  refuse  to  contend.  ^ 

The  folly  of  war  is  also  apparent  from  the  fact,  that  the  object 
for  which  it  is  waged,  could  almost  always  be  obtained  by  other 
and  less  hazardous  means,  and  that,  when  obtained,  it  is  rarely 
worth  the  blood  and  treasure  lavished  in  its  acquisition.  Cicero 
long  since  declared  '  the  worst  peace  preferable  to  the  best  war  f 
and  the  sagacious  Franklin  remarked,  "  whatever  advantage  one 
nation  would  obtain  from  another,  it  would  be  cheaper  to  purchase 
such  advantage  with  ready  money,  than  to  pay  the  expense  of  ac- 
quiring it  by  war."  Only  eight  days  afler  this  illustrious  patriot , 
had  placed  his  name  to  the  treaty  of  peace  which  acknowledged 
he  independence  of  his  country,  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  "may  we 

p.  T.       NO.   XLV. 


INETFICACY    OF    WAR. 


398 


never  see  another  war ;  for,  in  my  opinion,  there  never  was  a  good 
war,  or  a  bad  peace."  Both  reason  and  experience  bear  their 
testimony  to  the  correctness  of  these  sentiments.  Tlie  chance  of 
defeat,  vhich  is  always  great,  of  course  lessens  the  value  of  the 
object  for  which  we  contend,  for  the  same  reason  that,  when  the 
result  of  a  lawsuit  is  doubtful,  a  prudent  man  will  accept  a  com- 
promise rather  than  hazard  his  whole  demand.  The  value  of  the 
object  is  also  lessened  by  the  prodigious  expense  at  which  alone  it 
can  be  obtained. 

Let  us  test  these  principles  by  an  appeal  to  history.  Great 
Britain  claimed  the  right  of  raising  a  revenue  from  her  colonies  by 
taxation,  and  made  war  upon  them  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
this  revenue.  The  colonies,  on  the  other  hand,  took  up  arms  to 
establish,  not  their  independenqe  as  a  distinct  nation,  but  simply 
their  exemption  from  taxation  by  the  British  parliament,  instead 
of  their  own  colonial  legislatures.  To  human  view  the  contest 
was  unequal,  and  the  success  of  the  mother-country  beyond  a 
doubt.  Yet  in  her  attempt  to  extort  a  few  thousand  pounds  from 
her  feeble  and  defenceless  colonies,  she  drew  upon  herself  a  seven 
years'  war,  in  which  she  found  the  power  of  France,  Spain  and 
Holland  arrayed  against  her,  and  after  sacrificing,  as  is  estimated, 
200,000  of  her  subjects,  and  adding  $500,000,000  to  her  national 
debt,  she  was  compelled  to  purchase  peace  by  the  severance  of  her 
empire.  Had  she  condescended  to  limit  her  demand  on  the  col- 
onies, and  to  offer  equivalent  privileges  and  immunities,  her  blood 
and  her  treasure  would  have  been  spared,  and  her  power  would 
have  been  augmented  instead  of  being  impaired. 

But  it  may  be  said,  that  this  war,  though  disastrous  for  Great 
Britain,  was  glorious  and  happy  for  the  colonies.  Let  it,  however, 
be  recollected  that  this  glory  and  happiness  consisted,  not  in  ex- 
emption from  British  taxation,  the  sole  object  of  the  war  on  the  part 
of  the  colonies,  but  in  the  establishment  of  a  great  confederated  re- 
public ;  an  incident  of  the  war,  as  unwished  for  as  it  was  unexpected. 
As  this  assertion  may  startle  many,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  cor- 
rect the  prevailing  error  on  the  subject  by  an  appeal  to  indis- 
putable authorities.  The  Congress  of  1774,  specified  the  acts  of 
Parliament  which  infringed  upon  the  rights  of  the  colonies,  and  in 
their  petition  to  the  king,  after  setting  forth  their  grievances, 
remarked,  "  these  sentiments  are  extorted  from  hearts  that  would 
much  more  willingly  bleed  in  your  Majesty's  service.  We  wish 
not  a  diminution  of  the  prerogative,  nor  do  we  solicit  the  grant  of 
finy  new  right  in  our  favor ;  your  royal  authority  over  us,  and  our 
connection  with  Great  Britain,  we  shall  always  carefully  and  zeal- 
ously endeavor  to  support  and  maintain."  The  Congress  of  1775, 
after  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and  the  capture  of  Ticon- 
deroga,  ordered  an  inventory  of  the  royal  stores  taken  in  the  fort 
to  be  made,  in  order  that  they  migiit  be  returned  "  when  the  resto- 
ration of  the  former  harmony  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
colonies,  so  ardently  wished  for  by  the  latter,,  should  render  it  pru- 
dent and  consistent  with  the  overruling  law  of  self-preservation." 


399  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  3 

Even  after  organizing  the  army,  Congress  published  a  declara- 
tion, in  which  they  affirm,  "  we  mean  not  to  dissolve  that  union 
which  has  so  long  and  so  happily  subsisted  between  us,  and  which 
we  sincerely  wish  to  see  restored.  Necessity  has  not  yet  driven 
us  into  that  desperate  measure  ;  we  have  not  raised  armies  with 
ambitious  designs  of  separating  from  Great  Britain  and  establishing 
independent  states."  But  the  pertinacity  of  the  British  ministry 
prevented  the  colonists  from  laying  down  their  arms,  and  they  soon 
found  it  impossible  to  use  them  with  efficiency  in  the  character  of 
loyal  subjects,  and  hence  the  necessity  which,  in  1776,  drove  them 
into  the  "  desperate  measure"  of  a  declaration  of  independence. 
The  New  York  Convention,  on  receiving  this  declaration,  resolved, 
"that  while  we  lament  the  cruel  necessity  which  has  rendered  this 
measure  unavoidable,  we  approve  the  same."  Should  it  be  pre- 
tended that  these  official  asseverations  were  hypocritical,  and  the 
subterfuges  of  state  policy,  we  appeal  to  the  following  individual 
testimonies : — Franklin,  in  1775,  said,  "  I  never  heard  in  any  con- 
versation from  any  person,  drunk  or  sober,  the  least  expression  of 
a  wish  for  separation,  or  a  hint  that  such  a  thing  would  be  advan- 
tageous to  America."  "  During  the  course  of  my  life,"  says  John 
Jay,  "  and  until  aft*  the  second  petition  of  Congress  in  1775, 1 
never  did  hear  any  American  express  a  wish  for  the  independence 
of  the  colonies."  "  That  there  existed  a  general  desire  of  indepen- 
dence of  the  crown  in  any  part  of  America  before  the  Revolution," 
John  Adams  avers,  "  is  as  far  from  truth  as  the  zenith  is  from  the 
nadir.  For  my  own  part,  there  was  not  a  moment  during  the 
Revolution,  when  I  would  not  have  given  every  thing  I  possessed 
for  a  restoration  to  the  state  of  things  before  the  contest  began, 
provided  we  could  have  had  a  sufficient  security  for  its  contin- 
uance." "  Before  the  commencement  of  hostilities,"  Thomas 
Jefferson  adds,  "  I  never  had  heard  a  whisper  of  a  disposition  to 
separate  from  Great  Britain  ;  and  after  that,  its  possibility  was 
contemplated  with  affliction  by  all." 

Now,  had  the  war  been  continued  by  the  colonies,  as  it  com- 
menced, only  in  resistance  to  British  taxation,  and  had  the  peace 
of  1783  guaranteed  them  from  all  future  taxation  by  Parliament, 
the  object  for  which  they  had  appealed  to  arms,  would  have  been 
obtained ;  and  we  may  fairly  ask,  if  they  would  not  have  obtained 
it  at  a  price  incalculably  beyond  its  value  ?  Let  us*  endeavor  to 
form  some  estimate  of  the  amount  of  taxation  which  the  colonies 
imposed  upon  themselves,  rather  than  pay  the  stamp  and  other 
duties  claimed  by  Great  Britain.  It  appears  from  official  docu- 
ments, that  so  early  as  September,  1779,  the  money  borrowed  by 
Congress  for  carrying  on  the  war,  independent  of  the  proceeds  of 
taxes,  amounted  to  197,682,985  dollars  ;  and  other  large  loans,  it 
is  well  known,  were  afterwards  made  both  at  home  and  abroad. 
If  to  the  amount  expended  by  Congress,  we  add  the  contriljutions 
of  the  several  States,  and  the  losses  sustained  by  individuals,  we 
cannot  resist  the  conviction  that  the  mere  interest  of  the  aggre- 
gate sum  would  greatly  exceed  any  taxes  the  British  ministry  had 
ever  contemplated  imposing  upon  the  colonies.  ^ 


4  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  400 

But  pecuniary  disbursements  formed  as  usual' but  a  secondary 
item  in  the  cost  of  the  war.  The  slaughter  of  their  fellow-citizens, 
(287,954  were  called  into  service,)  the  capture  of  their  cities,  and 
the  devastation  of  large  portions  of  their  country,  together  with  the 
depreciation  of  morals  always  consequent  on  a  long  war,  are  to  be 
included  in  the  price  paid  by  our  fathers  for  their  exemption  from 
British  taxation.  And  can  we  doubt  that  Britain  would  have  re- 
joiced to  have  sold  that  exemption  at  a  trifle  compared  with  what 
we  actually  paid  for  it?  What  an  accumulation  of  human  misery 
would  such  a  contract  have  prevented !  To  the  colonies  it  would 
have  secured  without  a  groan  all  the  independence  they  desired ; 
and  to  England,  and  to  Europe,  it  would  have  saved  the  lives  and 
happiness  of  multitudes. 

A  later  period  of  our  history  furnishes  a  still  more  striking  illus- 
tration of  the  folly  of  war  as  a  mode  of  redress.  In  1812,  the 
United  States  declared  war  against  Great  Britain  on  account  of 
certain  orders  in  council  destructive  of  neutral  commerce,  and  on 
account  of  the  right  claimed  and  exercised  by  Great  Britain  of  im- 
pressing her  native  subjects  from  the  merchant  vessels  of  other 
nations  when  on  the  high  seas.  The  obnoa^ous  orders  were  re- 
voked before  the  news  of  the  war  reached  England,  and  the  contest 
was  continued  solely  on  account  of  impressment  "  The  impress- 
ment of  seamen,"  said  our  government,  "  being  deservedly  con- 
sidered a  principal  cause  of  the  war,  it  ought  to  be  prosecuted 
until  that  cause  is  removed.  The  omission  of  it  in  a  treaty  of  peace 
would  not  leave  it  on  its  former  ground ;  it  would  in  effect  be  an 
absolute  relinquishment,  and  the  United  States  would  have  ap- 
pealed to  arms  in  vain." 

Now,  the  greatest  number  of  American  seamen  ever  ofiicially 
alleged  to  have  been  compulsorily  serving  in  the  British  navy,  was 
about  800  ;  and  to  suppress  this  abuse,  we  drew  the  sword,  and 
formally  threw  away  the  scabbard.  To  prevent  the  impressment 
of  a  few  seamen,  the  whole  country  was  subjected,  for  about  three 
years,  to  the  burdens,  hazards  and  vicissitudes  of  war.  Our  com- 
merce was  swept  from  the  ocean,  our  citizens  oppressed  with  taxes, 
the  villages  on  the  Canadian  frontier  laid  in  ashes,  and  the  very 
metropolis  of  the  republic  captured,  and  its  public  edifices  fired  by 
foreign  troops. 

Great  Britain  at  length  found  herself,  by  the  overthrow  of  Na- 
poleon, at  liberty  to  direct  her  fleets  and  armies  exclusively  against 
the  United  States ;  and  our  government,  in  despair  of  extorting 
from  her  a  relinquishment  of  the  obnoxious  claim,  and  foreseeing 
only  an  accumulation  of  calamities  from  an  obstinate  prosecution 
of  the  war,  wisely  directed  their  negotiators,  in  concluding  a  treaty 
of  peace,  "  to  omit  any  stipulation  on  the  subject  of  impressment." 
The  instruction  was  obeyed ;  the  treaty  contained  not  the  most 
distant  allusion  to  the  subject  of  impressment ;  nor  did  it  provide 
for  the  surrender  of  a  single  American  sailor  detained  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  British  navy ;  and  thus,  by  the  confession  of  our  own 
government,  "  the  United  States  had  appealed  to  arms  in  vaij»." 


401  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  r$ 

But  was  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain  more  consistent  with  true 
wisdom  ?  Although  she  must  be  regarded  as  the  victorious  party, 
not  having  surrendered  the  claim  on  account  of  which  the  war 
was  waged,  yet  at  what  an  immense  cost  did  she  avoid  the  sur- 
render ?  To  retain  the  privilege  of  taking  from  American  mer- 
chant vessels  a  few  straggling  seamen,  she  encountered  a  three 
years'  war  in  which  nearly  3000  of  her  vessels  were  captured  by 
the  Americans ;  more  vessels  probably  than  all  the  seamen  she 
had  ever  recovered  by  impressment !  In  return  for  these  losses, 
for  the  cost  of  the  war,  and  the  consequent  additions  to  her  debt 
and  taxes,  she  retained  a  claim  which,  for  the  last  twenty-six 
years,  (1841,)  she  has  chosen  not  to  enforce. 

The  last  fifty  years  have  been  fruitful  in  wars,  and  also  in  proofs 
of  their  exceeding  folly.  The  impetuous  and  frantic  proceedings 
of  tlie  French  Legislative  Assembly,  struck  Europe  with  awe,  and 
her  monarchs  trembled  on  their  thrones,  whil^  witnessing  the  in- 
dignities cast  upon  the  unfortunate  Louis.  If  was  supposed  that 
the  permanency  of  all  monarchical  governments  was  involved  in 
the  future  fortunes  of  the  French  king ;  and  hence  the  declaration 
at  Pilnitz,  August,  1791,  by  which  Austria  and  Prussia  virtually 
invited  the  other  powers  of  Europe  to  unite  with  them  in  breaking 
the  fetters  with  Avhich  the  French  people  had  bound  their  sove- 
reign. The  invitation  not  being  accepted,  the  emperor. of  Austria, 
and  the  king  of  Prussia,  resolved  to  hasten  alone  to  the  rescue  of 
their  royal  brotJier,  and  as  a  preliminary  step,  submitted  to  France 
such  demands  as  plainly  intimated  an  intention  to  resort,  if  neces- 
sary, to  force.  These  demands  probably  hastened  the  fate  of  him 
in  whose  behalf  they  were  made.  They  were  answered  by  a  dec- 
laration of  war,  and  in  a  few  months  Louis  was  led  to  the  scaffold. 
The  allied  army  invaded  France,  and  were  soon  compelled  to  re- 
treat. They  were  followed  by  the  enemy,  who  spread  dismay 
through  Germany,  and  wrested  the  Netherlands  from  the  sway  of 
Austria. 

Great  Britain,  on  the  execution  of  Louis,  recalled  her  ambassa- 
dor from  Paris,  refused  any  longer  to  acknowledge  the  French 
minister  at  her  court,  and  was  preparing  to  join  in  the  melee,  when 
her  intentions  were  anticipated  by  the  energetic  leaders  of  the 
new  republic.  An  English  army  was  sent  to  the  Continent,  and 
driven  from  it  with  disgrace. — Prussia,  wearied  with  defeat,  sought 
for  peace,  and  obtained  a  treaty  which,  instead  of  re-establishing 
the  French  monarchy,  transferred  to  the  regicides  a  portion  of  her 
dominions. — Austria,  after  a  disastrous  war  of  six  years,  saw  a 
victorious  army  approaching  her  capital,  and  joyfully  accepted 
peace  as  a  boon,  although  purchased  at  the  expense  of  the  Neth- 
erlands, and  a  portion  of  her  Italian  possessions. — England,  de- 
serted by  her  allies,  continued  the  war  with  an  obstinacy  that  no 
experience  of  its  futility  could  shake,  and  with  a  pride  that  dis- 
dained to  inquire  for  what  object  it  was  waged. 

France,  triumphant  over  every  enemy  accessible  to  her  arms, 
resolved,  in  her  wantonness  of  power,  to  plant  her  standards  on 


^  INEFFICACY    OP    WAR.  402 

the  Pyramids,  and  without  condescending  to  offer  an  excuse  for 
assaulting  an  unoffending"  people,  already  looked  on  the  land  of 
the  Pharaohs  as  an  appendage  of  the  great  republic.  On  the  10th 
of  May,  1798,  the  most  formidable  and  magnificent  armament  that 
had  ever  been  equipped  on  the  French  shores,  took  its  departure 
for  Egypt ;  and  within  three  months  that  proud  fleet  had  been 
captured,  and  the  army  it  transported,  was  subsequently  returned 
as  prisoners  in  the  vessels  of  their  enemies. 

The  French  troops  having  taken  possession  of  the  papal  territo- 
ries, the  king  of  Naples,  alarmed  by  the  proximity  of  such  formi- 
dable neighbors,  thought  it  expedient,  for  the  security  of  his  own 
dominions,  to  throw  down  the  gauntlet  to  the  French  republic  ; 
and  in  a  few  months  he  found  himself  a  fugitive,  and  his  kingdom 
in  the  entire  possession  of  his  enemies. 

The  growing  power  of  France,  which  had  been  aggrandized  by 
every  effort  made  to  check  it,  now  excited  an  alliance  against  it 
between  Austria  and  Prussia.  During  the  progress  of  this  new 
war,  the  fortunate  soldier  who  swayed  the  destinies  of  France, 
proposed  peace  to  Great  Britain.  That  nation,  safe  in  her  Island 
fortress,  and  guarded  by  her  wooden  walls,  had  little  to  fear  from 
any  continental  power  ;  yet  seduced  by  the  meteor  of  glory,  she 
preferred  war  to  peace,  and  her  people  were  burdened  with  taxes, 
not  merely  to  maintain  her  own  armaments,  but  to  replenish  the 
exhausted  coffers  of  Austria.  That  rash  state,  weakened  and 
humiliated  by  successive  defeats,  at  last  closed  the  contest  she 
had  herself  commenced,  by  the  ignominious  treaty  of  Luneville. 
Prussia,  likewise,  afler  a  murderous  conflict,  concluded  a  peace 
which  gave  no  guarantee  whatever  of  her  own  safety,  or  that  of 
others. 

England  was  thus  left  to  struggle  alone  with  her  gigantic  foe. 
The  war  she  had  provoked  and  prolonged,  contributed  nothing  to 
her  prosperity  or  security,  and  had  in  truth  no  real  object  but  the 
gratification  of  her  national  pride ;  and  even  that  was  at  length 
compelled  to  submit  to  the  inglorious  peace  of  Amiens,  by  which 
England  obtained,  in  return  for  her  prodigal  expenditure  of  blood 
and  treasure,  Ceylon  in  the  East,  and  Trinidad  in  the  West  In- 
dies— possessions  which  would  have  been  dearly  purchased  at  the 
cost  of  one  year's  hostility. 

Such  was  the  result  of  ten  years'  war  waged  against  the  French 
republic,  not  to  resist,  but  to  prevent  aggression.  Had  the  powers 
of  Europe  abstained  from  all  interference  with  the  internal  dissen- 
sions of  France,  order  would  soon  have  succeeded  to  confusion, 
either  through  the  energy  of  some  successful  chieflain,  or  the 
establishment  of  a  regular  government ;  but  the  attempts  made  to 
coerce  and  conquer  France,  armed  a  whole  nation  in  defence  of 
its  liberties,  and  created  that  military  enthusiasm  and  desperation 
•which,  like  a  volcanic  eruption,  burst  forth  with  resistless  fury, 
spreading  terror  and  desolation  in  its  course. 

Never  had  the  precarious  issue  of  war  been  more  forcibly  taught 
to  mankind ;  but  it  was  a  lesson  unheeded  by  Europe,  and  least  of 


403  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  t 

all  by  England.  Mortified  by  the  failure  of  all  her  vast  efforts  to 
limit  the  power  of  the  new  republic,  confident  in  her  naval  supe- 
riority, and  trusting  to  her  pecuniary  resources  to  enlist  new  allies 
in  her  cause,  she  panted  to  renew  the  contest  from  which  she  had 
so  recently  retired.  Britain  could  not  complain  of  any  infraction 
of  the  late  treaty,  as  it  had  been  violated  only  by  herself  in  refus- 
ing to  surrender  Malta.  France  had  offered  her  no  violence,  nor 
was  there  proof  that  any  was  intended.  She  was  therefore  com- 
pelled to  assume  the  attitude  of  champion  and  protector  of  Europe ; 
and,  scarcely  twelve  months  aft,er  the  peace  of  Amiens,  she  renewed 
the  war  against  France  avowedly  on  account  of  the  grasping  and 
inordinate  ambition  of  her  ruler,  as  manifested  in  his  recent  en- 
croachments on  Switzerland  and  Piedmont !  But  the  hostility  of 
Great  Britain,  instead  of  curbing  the  ambition  of  Napoleon,  opened 
new  paths  for  its  splendid  and  adventurous  career ;  and  the  petty 
encroachments  which  had  excited  alarm  were  followed  by  the  occu- 
pation of  Hanover,  the  patrimonial  possession  of  the  house  of  Bruns- 
wick. In  the  course  of  a  feiv.months  England  beheld,  with  amaze- 
ment and  dismay,  arrayed  on  the  opposite  coast,  a  numerous  force, 
indicating  in  the  name  it  bore.  Army  of  England,  the  invasion  it 
meditated.  The  terror  inspired  by  this  army,  is  evinced  by  the 
preparations  made  to  repel  it.  To  nearly  100,000  troops  of  the 
line  were  added  80,000  disciplined  militia,  and  about  300,000 
volunteers.  "  The  land,"  says  a  distinguished  historian,  "  seemed 
converted  into  an  immense  camp,  and  the  whole  nation  into  sol- 
diers." The  mere  expense  of  these  preparations  must  have  far 
exceeded  the  value  of  any  acquisitions  rationally  anticipated  from 
the  war ;  and  in  less  than  one  year  after  its  declaration,  that  ruler 
whose  ambition  it  sought  to  repress,  had  exchanged  the  truncheon 
of  first  Consul  for  the  imperial  sceptre. 

Soon  after  his  coronation,  Bonaparte  once  more  offered  peace 
to  England;  but  her  passion  for  war  led  her  not  only  again  to 
refuse  the  proffered  boon,  but  to  lavish  her  wealth  in  rekindling  on 
the  Continent  the  flames  which  had  but  just  been  extinguished. 
An  alliance  was  formed  against  France,  between  Great  Britain, 
Austria  and  Russia.  This  new  war  was  announced  by  Napoleon 
to  his  senate  on  the  22d  September,  1805,  and  on  the  13th  No- 
vember following,  he  entered  Vienna  in  triumph  !  The  Russians 
hastened  to  the  succor  of  their  unfortunate  ally ;  and  on  the  2d 
December  the  battle  of  Austerlitz  dissolved  the  confederacy,  and, 
in  a  few  days  after,  the  treaty  of  Presburg  completed  the  humil- 
iation of  Austria  by  depriving  her  of  more  than  a  million  of  square 
miles  of  territory,  and  two  and  a  half  millions  of  subjects.  With 
a  folly  bordering  on  insanity,  Prussia  now  resolved  to  take  the  field 
against  France.  The  grievances  of  which  she  complained,  were 
trivial,  and  utterly  unworthy  the  risk  of  an  appeal  to  arms.  Yet 
on  the  1st  of  October,  1806,  she  issued  her  declaration  of  war,  and 
the  campaign  immediately  commenced.  After  gaining  some  ad- 
vantages, Bonaparte  offered  peace  to  Prussia ;  but  her  infatuated 
monarch  did  not  deign  to  return  an  answer ;  and,  on  the  13th  day 


8  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  404 

after  his  declaration  of  war,  his  power  was  prostrated  in  the  battle 
of  Jena,  he  himself  was  a  fugitive,  and  his  capital  in  the  occupation 
of  the  very  enemy  he  had  just  defied.  At  Berlin  the  French 
emperor  issued  a  decree  wliich  was  the  beginning  of  "what  was 
afterwards  called  the  continental  system,  by  which  all  commercial 
intercourse  between  Great  Britain  and  France,  and  her  allies,  was 
interdicted.  The  operation  of  tliis  system  occasioned  vast  loss 
and  distress  to  England,  and  greatly  aggravated  her  sufferings 
from  this  unnecessary  war.  The  Russians  had  advanced  to  the 
support  of  Prussia  ;  but  finding  their  ally  already  conquered,  im- 
mediately retreated.  They  were  pursued  by  the  victor,  and  a 
series  of  murderous  conflicts  ensued,  in  one  of  which  50,000  hu- 
man beings  perished.  At  length  the  treaty  of  Tilsit  gave  peace 
to  Prussia  and  Russia,  and  converted  them  from  allies  into  ene- 
mies to  Great  Britain,  and  supporters  of  the  continental  system. 

Thus  had  Britain  the  mortification  of  witnessing  tlie  coalitions 
which  her  subsidies  and  intrigues  had  raised  against  France,  serving 
only  to  swell  the  triumphs,  and  augment  the  power  of  her  rival. 
She  had  renewed  tiie  war  to  rescue  Europe  from  the  grasping 
ambition  of  the  first  Consul ;  and  yet,  notwithstanding  all  her 
mighty  efforts,  that  Consul  had  become  emperor  of  France,  and 
his  brothers,  kings  of  Holland,  Naples  and  Westphalia ;  and  Aus- 
tria, Prussia  and  Russia,  enrolled  themselves  among  his  allies. 
Could  peace  have  rendered  France  more  powerful,  Europe  more 
enslaved,  or  England  herself  more  burdened  and  exposed  ? 

Soon  after  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  France  and  Russia  jointly  offered 
peace  to  England,  consenting  to  leave  her  in  possession  of  what- 
ever she  had  acquired  in  the  course  of  the  war.  But  again  was 
the  blessing  spurned,  not  because  the  rights  of  Britain  were  in 
jeopardy,  but  because  the  same  boon  was  not  also  tendered  to 
Spain  and  Sweden  !  And  on  what  principle  of  duty,  on  what  plea 
of  state  expediency,  could  tlie  continuance  of  the  contest  by  Britain 
under  such  circumstances  be  justified  ?  Had  it  been  in  tlie  power 
of  Britain  to  rescue  Spain  and  Sweden  from  the  designs  of  their 
enemies,  her  right  to  shed  her  own  blood  in  defence  of  other  na- 
tions might  well  be  questioned.  The  result  of  her  former  efforts 
as  the  champion  of  Europe,  ought  to  have  taught  her  humility  ; 
and  she  was  doomed  soon  to  receive  another  lesson  not  more  grati- 
fying to  her  pride.  As  if  Providence  designed  to  rebuke  her 
arrogance,  only  a  few  months  elapsed  after  she  had  rejected  peace, 
that  she  might  extend  her  protection  to  Spain  and  Sweden,  before 
Madrid  surrendered  to  tlie  French  emperor;  an  English  army  was 
ignominiously  driven  from  the  Peninsula,  and  Finland,  wrested 
from  Sweden,  became  a  province  of  Russia. 

The  infatuation  of  England  communicated  itself  to  Austria.  To 
tliat  power  Franc'e  had  given  no  cause  of  complaint  since  the 
treaty  of  Presburg,  but  had  faithfully  observed  all  its  articles.  Still 
Austria  found  in  the  ever  increasing  power  of  Napoleon,  a  pretext 
for  renewing  hostilities  against  himy  An  army  of  550,000  men 
flattered  Austria  with  a  glorious  issue  to  the  war  she  commenced 


405  INEFFICACY    OP   WAR.  9 

on  the  9th  April,  1809.  In  thirty  days  "Vienna  was  once  more  in 
possession  of  the  French,  and  on  the  6th  July  the  battle  of  Wag- 
ram  placed  the  house  of  Austria,  for  the  third  time,  at  the  mercy 
of  Napoleon,  and  for  the  tliird  time  was  peace  purchased  by  pro- 
digious sacrifices. 

Surely  this  bf  ief  retrospect  of  the  wars  arising  from  the  Frencn 
revolution,  is  sufficient  to  humble  the  pride  of  human  reason.  We 
see  nations  rejecting  peace  as  an  evil,  counting  war  as  a  blessing, 
spurning  the  lessons  of  experience,  and  again  and  again  seeking 
safety  and  power  in  the  same  paths  which  had  repeatedly  led  them 
to  defeat  and  spoliation.  It  has  been  very  far  from  our  design  in 
this  retrospect  to  justify  the  conduct  of  Napoleon.  The  ends  he 
pursued,  and  the  means  he  employed,  were  generally  alike  un- 
lawful ;  but  we  must  admit  that,  for  very  many  of  the  wars  waged 
against  him,  he  had  given  no  other  provocation  than  the  possession 
of  great  power  and  inordinate  ambition.  That  his  power  was 
augmented,  and  his  ambition  indulged  by  the  very  assaults  of  his 
enemies,  cannot  be  questioned  ;  and  their  retrospect  forcibly  illus-, 
trates  the  little  dependence  that  can  rationally  be  placed  on  war 
as  a  means  of  national  security. 

But  it  may  be  contended  that  the  successive  defeats  sustained 
by  Russia,  Prussia  and  Austria,  were  owing  to  their  inferiority  to 
their  enemy  ;  and  that  the  nation  which  can  bring  into  the  field 
the  most  numerous  and  best  appointed  army,  must  invariably  be 
successful.  Were  we  to  admit  this,  still,  unless  the  superiority  of 
the  army  to  which  victory  is  destined  can  be  previously  ascertained, 
war  must  remain  as  uncertam  as  ever.  But  if  this  superiority  can 
be  discovered  before  the  contest  is  commenced,  how  are  we  to 
account  for  the  fact,  that  Austria,  Russia  and  Prussia  were  so 
often  and  so  grievously  deceived  ?  Their  wars  against  France 
were  either  declared  or  invited  by  themselves,  and  they  must 
therefore  have  flattered  themselves  that  they  had  at  least  an  even 
chance  for  success.  All  history,  however,  and  none  more  fully 
than  that  of  Napoleon  himself,  bears  testimony  to  the  great  and 
instructive  truth,  that  the  battle  is  not  always  to  the  strong,  and 
that  no  military  force  or  skill  whatever  can  enable  the  eye  of  man 
to  penetrate  the  future,  and  distinctly  foresee  the  result  of  a 
single  campaign. 

This  truth  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  Napoleon.  On  taking  a 
survey  of  Europe,  after  his  last  conquest  of  Auttria,  he  beheld  the 
whole  continent  courting  his  alliance  and  fJrotection,  with  the 
single  exception  of  Spain,  in  which  the  arms  and  treasures  of 
England  were  employed  in  strengthening  a  popular  resistance  to 
his  will.  Bent  on  the  destruction  of  his  insular  foe  who,  inacces- 
sible to  his  armies,  was  both  indefatigable  and  implacable  in  her 
hostility,  he  determined  to  enforce  against  her  the  continental 
system  in  every  country  that  could  be  controlled  by  his  power. 
Russia  refused  to  submit  to  all  the  restrictions  of  this  system,  and 
he  sternly  resolved  to  compel  obedience  to  his  mandate.  The 
preparations  for  this  war  by  France  exceeded  in  effective  strength 


10  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  406 

any  tlie  world  had  ever  witnessed.  Greater  numbers  may  have 
assembled  in  arms ;  but  history  affords  no  reason  to  believe  that 
any  body  of  men  were  ever  summoned  to  the  field  possessed  in  as 
great  a  degree  of  the  constiiuents  of  military  po>ver,  as  the  army 
now  collected  by  Napoleon.  The  gross  amount  of  the  regular 
disciplined  force  of  the  empire,  -and  its  dependencies  and  allies, 
amounted  to  the  almost  incredible  number  of  1,187,000.  From 
this  mighty  mass  tiie  emperor  could  draw  at  pleasure  to  maintain 
the' war;  and  he  selected  about  half  a  million  to  carry  the  French 
eagles  into  the  heart  of  Russia.  This  prodigious  multitude,  inured 
to  arms,  and  accustomed  to  victory,  were  commanded  not  by  a 
Xerxes  or  Darius,  but  by  one  of  the  most  energetic,  skilful  and 
fortunate  soldiers  that  Europe  had  ever  known.  Could  military 
superiority  insure  success,  surely  Napoleon  was  justified  in  his 
confident  anticipations  of  triumph ;  and  yet  in  a  few  months  this 
mighty  monarch  was  seen  deserting  at  night  the  wreck  of  an  army 
that  had  lost  450,000  men,  and  seeking  safety  in  flight  under  a 
borrowed  name !  It  is  unnecessary  to  trace  further  the  progress 
of  this  memorable  war,  which  terminated  in  the  entire  subjugation 
©f  France,  and  in  the  exile  and  captivity  of  her  late  powerful  em- 
peror. Of  these  results  England  claims  the  chief  credit ;  butthey 
would  probably  have  come  without  her  agency.  Napoleon  was 
indeed  banished  to  Elba;  but  that  was  effected  almost  without  the 
aid  of  a  British  musket.  British  troops  caused  his  downfall  at 
Waterloo  ;  but,  had  there  not  been  a  British  soldier  on  the  conti- 
nent, he  could  not  long  have  retained  the  tlirone  of  France. 

For  her  wanton  waste  of  human  life  and  happiness.  Great  Britain 
is  now  suffering  a  severe  retribution  in  her  enormous  debt,  which 
represses  industry,  and  has  filled  the  kingdom  with  mourning  and 
sedition.  Institutions  long  her  pride  and  boast,  are  now  tottering 
to  their  fall,  and  she  is  threatened  with  a  portentous  revolution. 
For  her  blood  poured  out  like  water,  for  the  millions  on  millions 
wrung  from  her  people  to  sustain  her  wars,  Great  Britain  has  re- 
ceived no  one  substantial  good  ! 

'  But  liberty  is  a  blessing  worth  every  sacrifice,  and  war  is  often 
indispensable  to  its  acquisition  and  protection.' — Could  liberty  be 
always  attained  and  preserved  by  war,  there  would  certainly  be 
strong  inducements  to  wage  it;  but  if  you  consult  the  records  of 
history,  you  will  find  war  far  more  frequently  the  foe  than  the 
friend  of  freedom.  •  Rarely  have  usurpers  triumphed  over  the  lib- 
erties of  their  counlry  but  by  the  sword.  The  ancient  despotism 
of  France  was  overthrown  by  representative  assemblies,  and  a 
republic  established  on  its  ruins ;  and  that  republic  was  annihilated 
by  an  adventurous  soldier  through  the  agency  of  the  army  entrusted 
to  him  for  its  defence.  The  liberties  of  England  have  been  ac- 
quired not  by  force  of  arms,  but  by  the  energy  of  parliaments. 
The  ruin  of  almost  every  republic  that  has  been  blotted  from  the 
list  of  nations,  may  be  ascribed  to  the  military  spirit  fostered  by  its 
citizens. 

War  has  always  been  adverse  to  political  freedom.     A  Roman 


407  INEFFICACY    OF    WAR.  11 

Statesman  declared,  that  '  laws  are  silent  in  the  midst  of  arms ;' 
and  the  experience  of  ages  has  converted  the  words  into  a  proverb. 
Civil  liberty  requires  the  substitution  of  laws  for  the  will  of  the 
ruler ;  but  in  war,  the  will  of  the  ruler  becomes  the  source  of 
legitimate  authority,  and  the  bulwarks  erected  around  civil  rights, 
are  all  levelled  on  the  proclamation  of  martial  law.  Constitutional 
liberty  is  often  sacrificed  to  the  policy  of  war,  and  almost  every 
campaign  produces  its  dictator.  Tew  men  have  ever  been  more 
jealous  of  encroachments  on  their  rights  than  the  fathers  of  the 
American  Revolution ;  yet  were  they  frequently  induced  by  the 
exigencies  of  the  war  to  submit  to  the  most  despotic  measures. 
At  one  period,  no  citizen  of  New  York  was  permitted  to  pass  from 
one  county  to  another  without  a  passport ;  and  the  convention  of 
tlie  same  State  authorized  a  committee  of  three  to  send  for  persons 
find  papers ;  to  call  out  detachments  of  the  militia ;  to  apprehend, 
imprison,  and  banish  whom  they  thought  proper ;  to  impose  se- 
crecy on  those  they  employed ;  to  make  draughts  on  the  treasury ; 
to  raise  officers,  and  employ  as  they  pleased  220  soldiers.  All 
history  bears  testimony  to  the  natural  tendency  of  war  to  establish 
and  strengthen  arbitrary  power.  The  pride  and  pomp  of  war,  the 
unlimited  power  of  the  commander,  the  gradations  of  rank,  and  the 
blind,  mechanical  obedience  exacted  from  the  troops,  all  conspire 
to  render  an  army  a  fit  instrument  of  tyranny. 

In  the  policy  of  nations  no  maxim  is  more  universally  received, 
with  undoubting  confidence  in  its  truth,  than  that  "  to  preserve 
peace,  it  is  necessary  to  be  prepared  for  war."  But  the  wisdom 
of  man  is  foolishness  with  God  ;  and  upon  few  maxims  of  worldly 
wisdom  has  Providence  more  indelibly  impressed  the  stamp  of  folly 
and  of  falsehood.  The  maxim  is  founded  in  ignorance  or  forget- 
fulness  of  the  depravity  of  human  nature.  It  supposes  that  ag- 
gression will  be  prevented  by  the  power  to  repel  it ;  while  the 
incitement  to  aggression  by  the  power  to  commit  it,  ig  wholly 
overlooked.  It  is  not  true  that  military  preparation  prevents  as- 
saults. The  very  possession  of  power,  provoking  envy,  jealousy 
and  hatred,  invites  hostility.  When  has  Europe  beheld  a  nation 
more  thoroughly  prepared  for  war  than  France  under  Napoleon  ? 
Yet  when  has  any  nation,  in  the  same  period  of  time,  been  more 
frequently  and  violently  attacked  ?,  History  affords  no  example  of 
a  nation  so  powerful  as  to  be  exempted  from  enemies.  On  the 
other  hand,  great  military  strength  has  certainly  no  tendency  to 
encourage  pacific  dispositions  in  its  possessor.  While  the  nature 
of  man  remains  unchanged,  his  cupidity,  oppression  and  injustice 
will  ordinarily  be  proportioned  to  his  means  of  indulging  them, 
and  those  nations  will  be  most  frequently  engaged  in  war,  who  are 
most  competent  to  wage  it. 

From  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Great 
Britain,  France  and  Russia  have  been  the  most  formidable  powers 
in  Europe,  Avhile  Holland,  Denmark  and  Portugal  have  ranked 
among  the  minor  states.  From  1700  to  the  general  peace  in  1815, 
these  countries  had  been  engaged  in  war   as   follows : — Great 


12  INEFFICACY    OP    WAR.  408 

Britain  69  years,  Russia  68,  France  63,  Holland  43,  Portugal  40, 
Denmark  28.  Thus  their  wars  have  been  pretty  much  in  proportion 
to  their  military  strength ;  and  thus,  in  the  righteous  retribution  of 
Providence,  those  nations  which  most  cultivate  the  arts  of  war,  are 
made  to  drink  most  deeply  of  its  bloody  cup.  We  also  learn  the 
folly  of  the  opinion  current  in  all  ages,  tliat  national  power  is  con- 
ducive to  national  happiness.  The  importance  attached  by  states- 
men to  national  wealth,  population  and  military  resources,  arises 
from  the  wretched  delusion,  that  national  happiness  can  be  insured 
only  by  force  of  arms.  But  no  truth  can  be  more  obvious  than 
that  national  happiness  is  merely  the  aggregate  happiness  of  indi- 
viduals ;  and  surely  the  happiness  of  individuals  rests  on  other 
grounds  than  the  revenues,  fleets  and  armies  of  the  government  to 
which  they  are  subject  Military  power  is  too  often  the  instrument 
of  a  barbarous  and  debasing  despotism.  The  actual  amount  of 
individual  and  domestic  suffering  in  France,  while  Napoleon  was 
arbiter  of  Europe,  was  probably  greater  than  under  any  other 
sovereign  that  had  ever  wielded  the  French  sceptre ;  and  who  can 
doubt  for  a  moment,  that  there  is  comparatively  more  comfort,  and 
less  misery,  in  the  diminutive  state  of  Connecticut,  than  in  the 
mighty  empire  of  Russia  ? 

The  last  plea  in  behalf  of  war  is,  that  it  is  indispensable  in  self- 
defence.  To  this  we  reply,  that  every  war  is  professedly  defensive, 
while  scarcely  any  one  is  so  in  fact  It  will  be  difficult  to  specify 
a  single  instance  in  which  a  war  might  not  have  been  averted  by 
honest  and  sincere  negotiation,  or  by  a  sacrifice  far  less  costly  to 
either  party  than  the  prosecution  of  hostilities.  Let  it  be  remem- 
bered, that  precisely  the  same  plea  is  advanced  in  vindication  of 
duelling ;  a  plea  we  all  know  to  be  utterly  false.  War  is  national 
duelling,  in  which  each  party  is  exposed  to  calamities  incomparably 
more  dreadful  than  the  grievances  they  are  seeking  to  redress. 


Madison. — Of  all  the  enemies  of  public  liberty,  war  is  perhaps 
the  most  to  be  dreaded.  It  is  the  parent  of  armies  ;  from  these 
proceed  debts  and  taxes  ;  and  armies,  and  debts,  and  taxes  are  the 
known  instruments  for  bringing  the  many  under  the  dominion  of 
the  few.  In  war,  too,  the  discretionary  power  of  the  executive  is 
extended  ;  and  all  the  means  of  seducing  tlie  mind,  are  added  to 
those  of  subduing  the  force,  of  the  people.  Ao  nation  covld  pre- 
serve Us  freedom  in  the  midst  of  continued  warfare. 

Sir  James  Mackintosh. — The  army  is  the  last  resource  of 
power ;  a  tremendous  weapon,  which  cannot  burst  without  threat- 
ening destruction  to  all  around,  and  which,  if  it  were  not  some- 
times happily  so  overcharged  as  to  recoil  on  hitn  who  wields  it, 
would  rob  all  the  slaves  in  the  world  of  hope,  and  all  tlie  freemen 
of  safety. 

O'CoNNELL. — Remember  no  political  change  is  worth  a  single 
crime,  or,  above  all,  a  single  drop  of  human  blood. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


I 


No.  XL,  VI. 
MILITIA   DRILLS. 


Nations  have  always  claimed  the  right  of  war,  and  made  it 
their  great  business  to  prepare  for  it,  either  by  having  every  man 
a  warrior,  as  among  savages ;  or  by  standing  armies,  as  in  Europe 
since  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  ;  or  by  a  militia  system 
which  places  the  defence  of  a  country  in  its  own  citizens,  and 
keeps  more  or  less  of  them  trained  for  this  service.  Such  a  sys- 
tem, though  extremely  crude  and  inefficient,  existed  in  the  feudal 
ages ;  and  the  'elements  of  even  our  own  militia  may  be  traced 
back  as  far  as  Alfred  the  Great. 

I  shall  not  now  discuss  the  principle  of  such  preparations  ;  for 
the  rightfulness  of  these  turns  very  much,  if  not  entirely,  on  that 
of  war  itself.  I  may  certainly  prepare  for  whatever  I  am  bound  or 
permitted  to  do ;  but,  if  the  thing  itself  is  wrong,  then  is  it  equally 
so  to  make  any  preparation  for  doing  it.  If  duelling  or  piracy  is 
wrong,  I  must  not  prepare  myself  for  either.  If  wrong  to  counter- 
feit, or  steal,  or  commit  robbery  or  murder,  I  have  no  right  to 
make  the  slightest  preparation  for  such  crimes  ;  and,  on  the  same 
principle,  it  is  just  as  right,  or  just  as  wrong,  to  prepare  for  war  as 
it  is  to  use  such  preparations  in  actual  warfare.  I  believe  the 
gospel  forbids  both  ;  but,  supposing  war  to  be  right  in  the  emer- 
'gencies  for  which  preparations  are  made,  I  still  contend  that 
militia  drills  are  worse  than  useless.  I  do  not  now  call  in  question 
the  system  itself,  or  the  principle  of  repelling,  and  being  prepared 
to  repel  aggression ;  but  I  think  it  possible,  in  perfect  consistency 
with  this  admission,  to  prove  that  our  militia  drills  are  an  expen- 
sive and  pernicious  superfluity,  and  might,  without  the  least  injury 
or  danger,  be  entirely  discarded. 

Few  suspect  how  much  our  militia  drills  cost  and  waste.  Take 
a  case  which  I  myself  learned  on  the  spot.  In  a  small  town  of 
New  England,  there  were  formed  even  in  1842  no  less  than  three 
military  companies  with  some  aid  from  an  adjoining  town,  and 
one  company  of  juvenile  volunteers.  Of  the  latter  a  shrewd,  eco- 
nomical man  said,  'I  wish  this  training  fever  were  over;  for  it  has 
cost  me  eight  or  ten  dollars  to  fit  up  my  boys,  and  lost  me  a  great 
deal  of  their  time  during  the  best  season  of  the  year.'  If  there 
were  only  forty  boys  in  the  company,  and  their  equipments  cost 
four  dollars  each,  and  their  time  was  worth  only  twenty-five  cents 
a  day,  the  sum  total  for  these  items  alone,  would  have  been  $340. 
If  we  suppose  the  whole  number  from  that  town  in  the  adult  com- 
panies to  have  been  only  one  hundred,  the  time  spent  through  the 
season  a  single  week  at  merely  half  a  dollar  a  day,  their  incidental 
expenses  barely  twenty-five  cents  more,  and  their  equipments  of 
every  kind  eight  dollars  each,  the  aggregate,  though  most  of  these 

p.  T.      NO.  XLVI. 


2  MILITIA    DRILLS.  410 

estimates  are  too  low  by  half,  would  amount  to  no  less  than  $1250, 
in  all  for  boys  and  men,  $1590;  and,  should  we  reckon  the  loss 
of  time  and  money  to  the  spectators,  and  the  general  suspension 
or  derangement  of  business,  the  sum  total  would  probably  reach 
$3000  or  more.  Put  it,  however,  at  only  $2000  for  a  population 
of  one  thousand ;  and,  even  at  this  rate,  you  would  make  our  militia 
drills  now  (1845)  a  tax  upon  the  country  of  some  $40,000,000  a 
year! 

Nor  does  even  this  tell  the  whole  truth.  A  good  man  once 
said  to  me,  '  I  trained  some  ten  years  ;  and,  though  a  subordinate 
officer  only  a  year  or  two,  it  must  have  cost  me,  in  all,  not  less 
than  $500.  I  have  also  known  individuals,  hard-working,  eco- 
nomical mechanics,  embarrass  themselves  for  ten  or  twelve  years 
by  the  debts  they  began,  while  apprentices,  to  contract  in  the 
militia.  Their  uniforms,  which  must  be  changed  or  renewed 
every  few  years,  cost  them  nearly  forty  dollars  apiece  ;  and  then 
came  their  personal  expenses,  and  a  succession  of  assessments^for 
I  hardly  know  what  purposes.'  A  venerable  man,  a  soldier  of  the 
Revolution,  and  for  a  long  time  at  the  head  of  the  militia  in 
Connecticut,  said  to  me,  '  I  know  what  tlfese  things  cost ;  for  I 
have  been  through  the  mill.  I  have  spent,  as  an  officer  in  the 
militia,  not  less  than  $10,000  in  my  life ;  and  my  son  yonder,' 
pointing  to  his  residence  hard  by,  'has  probably  spent  about  as 
much  more.'  Such  statements  may  seem  incredible ;  but  wc 
should  remember,  that  every  officer  was  obliged  not  only  to  pur- 
chase his  own  uniform  and  equipments,  but  to  treat  all  his  electors 
at  every  promotion,  and  provide  subsequently  expensive  entertain- 
ments for  his  subordinates  in  office  and  arms.  I  have  known  an 
officer  give  $300  for  the  use  of  a  horse  on  a  single  occasion  ;  and 
one  training  cost  him  alone  some  $1500  !  The  commander  of  a 
brigade  in  Connecticut  was  supposed  on  one  occasion  to  have 
spent  from  his  own  purse  tliree  or  four  thousand  dollars  for  a  single 
training ;  and  the  sum  total  of  its  cost  to  the  community  in  time, 
and  money,  and  suspension  of  business,  was  estimated  by  a  shrewd, 
candid  eye-witness  at  $80,000 !  probably  an  average  of  nearly 
two  dollars  to  every  inhabitant  in  the  district 

Let  us  look  a  little  more  into  the  details  of  this  matter.  Our 
militia  system  has  now  dwindled  into  comparative  insignificance ; 
but,  when  in  its  full  vigor  and  glory,  the  number  of  trainings  va- 
ried, in  different  parts  of  our  countr}%  from  tliree  or  four  to  ten  or 
twelve  every  year ;  and,  at  one  or  two  of  them,  the  mass  of  the 
people  were  wont  to  suspend  their  business,  and  turn  the  occasion 
into  a  holiday  of  idleness,  intemperance  and  revelry.  If  we  sup- 
pose but  four  trainings  a  year  requisite  to  keep  the  system  in  suc- 
cessful operation,  and  the  people  generally  to  turn  aside  from  their 
work  only  twice,  we  should  now  have,  if  our  militia  were,  as  usual, 
about  one-tenth  of  our  entire  population,  nearly  two  millions  en- 
rolled for  military  service.  Every  training  may  be  fairly  expected 
to  consume,  in  one  way  and  another,  two  days ;  and,  at  this  rate, 
two  million  soldiers  would  spend  every  year  sixteen  million  days, 
worth  as  many  dollars.     Their  incidental  expenses,  at  only  fifty 


411  MILITIA    DRILLS.  3 

cents  a  day,  would  be  $8,000,000 ;  their  equipments,  at  five  dollars 
each,  would  be  $10,000,000;  the  personal  expenses  of  all  the 
officers  could  hardly  be  less  than  those  of  all  the  privates,  or 
$18,000,000;  and  the  time  lost  by  the  community  at  large,  if 
reckoned  in  all  equal  in  value  to  that  of  the  troops,  would  be 
$16,000,000;  a  sum  total  of  $68,000,000  a  year!  All  this  without 
reckoning  a  variety  of  expenditures  and  losses  in  other  ways. 
Perfect  accuracy  on  such  a  subject  is  quite  impossible ;  but  these 
suppositions,  certainly  not  extravagant,  may  suffice  to  give  us  a 
glimpse  of  what  is  annually^  wasted,  or  would  be  if  sustained  in 
full  vigor,  upon  our  system  of  militia  drills. 

On  this  point,  let  us  hear  one  of  our  ablest  and  most  candid 
writers.  "  The  first  item,"  says  Judge  Jay,  "  in  the  expense  of 
our  militia  system,  is  the  annual  loss  of  many  millions  of  days' 
labor.  But  this  multitude  must  be  '  armed  and  equipped  as  the 
law  directs ;'  and  hence  an  expenditure  of  fifteen  or  twenty  mil- 
lions more.  Next,  the  commissioned  officers  must  be  arrayed  in 
regimentals,  and  many  thousands  of  the  militia  organized  in  '  uni- 
form corps,'  and  compelled  of  course  to  provide  themselves  with 
expensive  clothes.  Then  comes  the  cost  of  music,  of  standards, 
of  artillery,  of  cavalry,  and  of  state  arsenals  and  magazines.  It  is 
impossible  to  ascertain,  with  precision  the  yearly  aggregate  ex- 
pense of  our  militia ;  but  it  certainly  cannot  fall  much,  if  any, 
short  o^ fifty  millions^  All  this  when  our  population  did  not  ex- 
ceed fifteen  or  sixteen  millions. 

But  its  waste  of  property  is  the  least  evil  resulting  from  this 
system.  It  has  been  a  source  of  general  corruption  to  the  com- 
munity, and  formed  habits  of  idleness,  dissipation  and  profligacy. 
It  did  a  great  deal  to  flood  our  land  with  intemperance  ;  and  mus- 
ter-fields have  generally  been  scenes  or  occasions  of  gambling, 
licentiousness,  and  almost  every  vice.  The  history  of  our  militia 
drills  is  a  tissue  of  such  facts.  In  answer  to  inquiries  made  by 
our  General  Government  in  1826,  the  highest  officers  of  the  militia 
in  diflTerent  sections  of  the  country  represented  '  militia  musters  as 
prejudicial  to  the  morals  of  the  community  ;  as  assemblies  of  idle 
and  dissipated  persons ;  as  making  idlers .  and  drunkards  rather 
than  soldiers ;  as  attended,  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances, 
with  riot,  drunkenness,  and  every  species  of  immorality ;  as  always 
scenes  of  the  lowest  and  most  destructive  dissipation,  where  noth- 
ing was  acquired  but  the  most  pernicious  habits.' 

To  compensate  for  such  enormous  evils,  what  good  have  our 
militia  trainings  done  ?  Have  they  rendered  any  valuable  equiva- 
lent for  the  two  thousand  millions  of  dollars  probably  wasted  upon 
them  since  we  became  a  nation,  and  for  the  flood  of  intemperance, 
and  other  vices  which  they  have  poured  over  the  whole  land  ? 
Strange  indeed  would  it  be,  had  they  been  of  no  use  whatever ; 
but  what  good  have  they  done  that  might  not  have  been  secured 
without  them  ?  More  than  sixty  years  have  now  (1845)  elapsed 
since  our  revolutionary  war ;  and,  during  all  this  period,  scarce  an 
emergency  has  arisen  which  might  not  have  been  met  just  as  well 


4  MILITIA    DRILLS.  412 

Without  the  drilling  of  a  single  muster.  Assume,  if  you  please, 
the  necessity  of  armed  preparation,  and  the  expediency  of  an  or- 
ganized militia,  I  still  say  that  the  drills  are  superfluous,  and  that 
a  simple  enrolment,  as  for  the  jury-box,  would  be  amply  sufficient 
The  best  officers  in  the  militia  confess,  that  such  exercises  are 
almost  useless  as  a  preparation  for  actual  warfare ;  and  so  ineffec- 
tuaJ  did  they  prove  in  our  last  war,  the  only  fair  test  to  which  they 
have  ever  been  put,  that  raw  recruits  were  generally  preferred  to 
the  best  drilled  militia.  If  ever  so  serviceable,  however,  ought 
•we  to  waste  so  much  money,  time  and  moral  character  in  prepar- 
ing for  a  danger  that  will  not  occur  once  in  thirty  years,  and  might 
even  then  be  met  quite  as  well  by  other  means  ? 

'  But  would  you  have  no  means  of  defence  against  war  ? ' — I 
must  own  I  can  see  little  need  of  such  means  ;  there  has  been  no 
occasion  for  them  the  last  thirty  years  ;  nor  is  there  any  in  imme- 
diate or  remote  prospect.  Why  then  squander  so  much  in  pre- 
parations to  avert  an  evil  so  unlikely  to  occur  ?  Why  drill  nearly 
two  millions  of  men  half  a  dozen  times  every  year,  just  to  fight 
against  the  merest  bugbear  ?  There  is  not  the  slightest  proba- 
bility, that  any  nation  will  either  dare  or  wish  to  invade  us  ;  and 
why  take  such  infinite  pains  to  guard  against  an  emergency  that 
will  never  occur?  Should  it  occur,  it  might  be  met  just  as  well 
without  drills,  by  a  simple  enrolment  of  the  men  liable  to  military 
service ;  and  thus  should  we  secure  all  the  alleged  advantages  of 
our  miliita  system,  without  the  evils  incident  to  its  periodical 
trainings. 

If  you  insist  on  the  necessity  of  having  the  militia  as  an  arpoed 
police,  I  reply,  that,  as  peace-men,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with 
this  question.  Aiming  solely  to  abolish  international  war,  we  do 
not  interfere  with  the  internal  operations  of  government,  but 
leave  it  to  restrain  or  punish  its  own  subjects  in  whatever  way  it 
pleases.  It  may  err;  but  the  peace  movement  was  not  started 
to  correct  such  errors.  If  the  militia  were  necessary  as  a  police 
force,  it  does  by  no  means  follow,  that  we  must  have  its  expensive, 
ridiculous,  demoralizing  drills.  We  can  uphold  government,  en- 
force law,  and  suppress  riots,  mobs  and  insurrections  quite  as  well 
without  as  with  them.  In  such  emergencies,  could  we  rely  on  the 
militia  ?  When  Boston  in  1837  was  threatened  with  a  mob,  some 
one  proposed  to  call  out  the  militia ;  but  who  and  where  were 
they  ?  He  looked  around  him,  and  saw  them  in  the  very  mob 
they  were  wanted  to  suppress.  So  the  government  of  Rhode 
Island,  when  assailed  in  1842,  was  obliged  in  some  cases  to  dis- 
band the  existing  militia,  and  form  new  companies  of  men  rightly 
disposed,  because  some  of  the  old  companies  had  gone  over  in  a 
body  to  the  insurgents  ;  and,  should  a  mobocratic  or  rebellious 
spirit  seize  the  mass  of  our  people,  our  militia  system  would  just 
furnish  them  with  the  means  of  accomplishing  Uieir  purpose,  and 
thus  leave  our  rulers  entirely  at  their  mercy. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  xiiVn. 

UNITED    STATES    NAVY. 

WHAT    IS    ITS    USE? 

BY    SAMUEL    E.  COUES. 


I  ASK  of  judicious  and  practicalnnen  the  following  questions : — 
What  is  the  advantage  of  a  Navy  ?  What  is  its  function  in  peace  ? 
What  does  it  accomplish  in  war  ?  In  plain  words,  what  is  the  use 
of  the  Navy  ? 

A  few  years  since,  it  was  taken  for  granted,  that  a  navy  was 
absolutely  necessary.  This  was  the  established  public  opinion ; 
no  one  questioned  the  utility  of  our  ships  of  war.  Fighting  ves- 
sels were  deemed  as  important  as  colleges  or  schools.  But  the 
times  have  changed  ;  and  the  question  is  now  boldly  and  openly 
asked,  all  over  New  England,  more  or  less  through  the  land,  what 
is  the  use  of  the  navy  ?  It  is  asked,  not  only  by  ultra  peace-men 
wlio  set  themselves  against  all  wars,  offensive  and  defensive,  but 
by  those  who  still  hold  to  the  opinion,  that  at.  times  war  is  una- 
voidable. There  are  very  many  who  can  see  no  benefit  from  the 
navy  in  time  of  peace,  and  who  regard  fighting  ships  as  the  means 
of  useless  slaughter  in  times  of  war. 

A  very  common  apology  for  the  expenditure  upon  our  navy,  by 
those  who  take  a  limited  view  of  the  subject,  is,  that  the  money  is 
not  wasted,  because  it  supports  mechanics,  artisans,  seamen  and 
officers,  giving  to  them  their  means  of  living.  It  is  true,  that  it 
thus  affords  to  many  their  support.  The  navy  is  popular  among 
those  towards  whom  the  money  flows  out  in  golden  streams.  For 
instance,  the  navy  pays  annually  to  about  sixty  men,  as  captains, 
a  quarter  of  a  million  of  dollars.  The  building,  and  repairing,  and 
sailing  of  one  ship  of  the  line,  disburse  one  million  of  dollars. 
There  are  many  who  desire  thus  to  live  out  of  the  public.  Since 
the  accession  of  Mr.  Polk,  in  the  short  space  of  three  or  four  months, 
there  have  been  several  thousand  applicants  for  midshipmen's  war- 
rants. For  one  vacant  office,  that  of  second  lieutenant  of  marines, 
we  were  told  there  were  over  twelve  hundred  applicants !  But  we 
ask,  who  pays  the  money  for  the  navy  ?  It  comes  from  the  pockets 
of  those  who  have  earned  it,  to  go  to  those  who  spend  it.  It  is  a 
mere  transfer  from  hand  to  hand.  The  nation  does  not  gain.  The 
nation,  in  fact,  loses  when  it  supports  men  who  do  nothing  for  the 
common  good. 

The  next  answer  to  our  question, — and  it  is  the  answer  most 
relied  upon, — is,  a  navy  is  needed  for  the  protection  of  commerce. 

p.  T.      NO.  XLVII. 


2  UNITED    STATES    NAVY.  414 

Commerce  is  the  interchange  of  merchandize,  the  circulation 
throughout  the  world  of  the  conveniences  and  luxuries  of  life.  It 
supplies  the  United  States  with  the  productions  of  other  countries, 
and  furnishes  other  countries  with  the  surplus  goods  of  our  own. 
We  do  not  underrate  the  value  of  commerce.  It  builds  up  our 
cities.  It  supplies  many  wants.  It  accumulates  capital,  and 
stimulates  the  productive  industry  of  our  citizens. 

But  our  country  could  have  all  this  profitable  commerce,  with- 
out owning  a  single  ton  of  shipping,  without  one  sail  on  the  ocean 
bearing  the  stars  and  stripes.  Foreign  vessels  would  carry  on  our 
freighting  as  well,  as  cheaply,  as  our  own,  and  do  their  own  fight- 
ing, if  fighting  were  necessary  to  protect  them.  The  carrying 
trade  is  a  distinct  branch  of  business.  The  owning  of  ships  has « 
no  necessary  connection  with  commerce,  more  tnan  carting  or 
wagoning  has  with  the  merchant's  purchases  and  sales. 

Already  nearly  half  of  the  merchandize  imported  into,  and  ex- 
ported from,  the  United  States,  is  carried  by  foreign  vessels.  In 
1843,  the  proportion  of  foreign  tonnage  employed  by  our  com- 
merce to  American  tonnage,  M^as  as  .500,000  to  1,200,000  tons. 
In  ]845,  in  four  of  our  cotton  ports,  there  were,  at  one  time,  150 
foreign  ships  to  300  American ;  the  tonnage  of  the  foreign  ships, 
being  larger  vessels,  almost  equalled  the  tonnage  of  the  American. 
Of  all  the  foreign  arrivals  at  Boston  in  the  year  1844,  half  (though 
small  vessels  generally)  were  BritisTi  vessels;  and  at  other- eastern 
ports  existed  the  same  state  of  things.  The  ships  of  northern 
Europe  have  the  bulk  of  the  exports  from  New  York  to  that  part 
of  Europe.  The  tobacco  of  Virginia,  the  coffee  of  Cuba,  the  oil  of 
our  whale  ships,  go  usually  on  board  of  these  vessels ;  and  foreign 
vessels  have  been  chartered  or  employed  by  our  own  merchants 
for  their  East  India  voyages. 

If  we  had  not  a  single  ship,  we  could  receive  or  send  away  all 
the  goods  which,  in  the  prosecution  of  commercial  business,  are 
required  to  be  received  or  to  be  sent  away.  This,  too,  at  fair  prices 
of  freight ;  for  so  rapid  can  be  made  the  increase  of  ships,  that 
goods  will  always  be  freighted  at  the  lowest  possible  price,  and,  as 
experience  thus  far  has  manifested,  at  lower  prices  in  foreign  ves- 
sels than  in  the  vessels  of  the  United  States.  From  this  cause,  we 
are  now  rapidly  losing  the  employment  of  our  ships ;  they  are  not 
able  to  encounter  the  foreign  competition.  We  certainly,  there- 
fore, need  no  navy  for  the  protection  of  commerce.* 

It  will,  however,  be  said,  that  if  the  navy  is  not  needed,  for  the  , 
protection  of  our  commerce,  it  is  for  the  protection  of  our  naviga- 
tion;  that  having  merchant  ships  afloat,  they  require  the  navy. 
Let  us  compare  the  cost  of  the  navy  with  the  profits  of  the  naviga- 
tion interest  which  it  is  said  to  protect. 

*  We  are  informed  that  a  foreign  ship  broucht  goods  from  China  to  New 
York  at  ^1  per  ton  freight,  the  average  price  m  American  ships  being  over 
$20  per  ton. 


415  UNITED    STATES    NAVY.  S 

The  annual  expenditure  for  our  navy  for  the  last  few  years  has 
been, 

1838, $6,131,580  53 

1839, 6,182,294  25 

1840, 6,113,896  89 

1841, .  6,001,076  97 

1842, 8,397,242  95 

First  6  months  of      1843, 3,727,711  53 

From  1st  July,  1843,  to  30th  June,  1844,       .    .     .  6,498,199  11 

43,052,002  23v 
Add  the  expense  of  the  Navy  Department,  350,000_00 

And  we  have  $43,402,002  23 

A  sutn  much  larger  than  the  profits  of  our  navigation  for  the  same 
period  of  time,  as  every  ship  owner  will  readily  admit. 

From  official  reports,  we  learn  that  the  expenditures,  including  the 
first  cost,  repairs  and  armament,  for  the  ship  of  the  line  Delaware, 
is  $1,051,000  ;  for  the  Columbus,  $674,000  ;  for  the  Pennsylvania, 
$784,000  ;  for  the  OUo^  $843,000  ;  for  the  JV.  Carolina,  $812,000. 

The  average  cost  of  a  line  of  hattle  ship  is    ....    $830,000 

One  year  in  service,  wages,  provisions,  &c., 220,000 

Ship's  proportion  of  navy  yard,  &c., 50,000 

$1,100,000 
The  expenditure  has  been,  for  the  frigate  Potomac,  $527,000  ; 
for  the  Macedonian,  $269,000  ;  for  the  Brandytoine,  $699,000  ;  for 
the  Columbia,  $398,000. 

Average  expenditure  for  a  frigate, $475,000 

One  year  in  use, 110,000 

Navy  yards,  &c., 25,000 

$610,000 
For  the  sloop  of  war  Warren,  $267,000 ;  Vincennes,  $300,000 
Falmouth,  $335,000  ;  ^dams,  $275,000. 

Average  expenditure  for  a  sloop  of  war, $315,000 

One  year  in  service, 50,000 

Navy  yards,  «fec., 10,000 

$375,000 
The  average  expense  of  each  gun  thus  carried,  as  we  say,  use- 
lessly over  the  ocean,  for  one  year,  amounts  to  about  $15,000. 
Now,  admitting  the  profit  of  an  American  ship  to  be  four  thousand 
dollars  per  annum, — and  this  rate  of  profit  would  cover  the  ocean 
with  ships, — it  will  take  the  year's  earnings  of  one  hundred  ships 
to  pay  the  expenditure  necessary  to  have  a  sloop  of  war,  and  to 
use  her  for  one  year ;  one  hundred  and  fifty  ships  for  a  frigate ; 
and  nearly  three  hundred  ships  for  a  line  of  battle  ship ;  i.  e.  a  little 
fleet  of  a  seventy-four,  a  frigate  arrd  sloop,  requires  five  hundred 
and  fifty  ships  to  do  a  profitable  business,  to  earn  enough  in  a  year 


4  UNITED    STATES    NAVY.  416 

to  build,  repair  and  sail  this  fleet  Thus  seventeen  hundred  merchant 
ships,  even  if  every  one  cleara.$4000  per  annum,  must  be  employed 
every  year  to  earn  the  annual  expenses  of  our  navy  ! 

We  have  about  1,000,000  tons  of  shipping  engaged  in  the  foreign 
trade,  which  is  two  thousand  ships,  averaging  five  hundred  tons 
each.  The  cost  of  this  shipping  is  $60  per  ton.  The  actual  value 
of  our  mercantile  marine  is  about  $40  per  ton,  taking  them  togeth- . 
er,  new  and  old.  This  would  make  the  value  of  our  shipping  to  be 
forty  millions  of  dollars,  about  five  times  the  annual  cost  of  our 
navy.  Our  navigation,  therefore,  must  earn  every  year,  or  benefit 
the  couutry,  20  per  cent,  of  its  value,  to  pay  for  its  protection  by 
our  navy.  The  ship  owner  does  not,  upon  an  average,  one  year 
with  another,  earn  five  per  cent,  beside  tiie  interest  on  the  capital 
employed.  This  estimate — 5  per  cent. — would  give  two  millions 
as  the  profit  to  the  owners.  The  captains,  officers  and  American 
seamen  engaged  in  foreign  trade,  do  not  receive  over  three  millions 
in  wages.  The  increased  value  of  American  ship  building  mate- 
rials, {principally  timber,  for  the  iron,  copper,  hemp  and  canvass  are 
mostly  imported,)  on  account  of  the  construction  of  ships,  does  not 
exceed  one  and  a  half  millions.  The  labor  paid  in  ship  building, 
is  about  one  million  dollars.  Altogether  seven  and  a  half  millions 
are  the  national  profit  of  our  navigation,  or  about  the  cost  of  the 
navy.  But,  if  you  please,  double  this  estimate  of  the  profit  of  our 
navigation;  prove,  if  you  can,  that  I  undervalue  the  benefit  of  our 
commercial  marine,  and  that  I  overvalue  the  cost  of  the  figiiting 
ships,  still  it  settles  nothing  in  favor  of  the  navy,  for  the  navy  is 
not  of  the  least  practical  advantage  to  the  navigation.  There  are 
nations  now  enjoying  a  profitable  navigation,  who  have  not  a  single 
vessel  of  war;  and  who  are  sailing  tlieir  ships  so  cheaply,  as  to 
interfere  most  seriously  with  the  employment  of  our  ships  by  our 
own  commerce. 

In  time  of  peace,  all  the  protection  for  merchant  ships,  which 
will  be  claimed  as  necessary,  is  protection  against  pirates.  Now, 
seventy-fours  and  frigates  never  catch  pirates,  certainly  not  as 
many  as  they  educate  to  the  business ;  for  it  is  universally  admit- 
ted, that  pirates  are  made  by  men  living  among  death-dealing  in- 
struments, by  their  being  trained  to  the  use  of  the  weapons  of  war. 
If  we  must  have  a  defence  against  pirates,  it  should  be  small  ves- 
sels always  in  commission,  not  ships  of  the  line,  or  frigates, 
swinging  idly  at  their  moorings,  or  making  their  passages  across 
the  ocean.  Who,  in  his  senses,  would  employ  our  large  ships  to 
catch  pirates? 

In  peace,  the  huge,  clumsy  floating  batteries  carry  abroad  in 
state  some  minister  plenipotentiary,  or  sail  to  exercise  the  crew, 
or  to  try  their  comparative  speed ;  a  most  idle,  wanton  expenditure 
of  money.  In  war  there  is  no  navigation  to  be  protected ;  vessels 
of  neutral  nations  then  make  the  profit,  they  do  the  business  ;  the 
vessels  of  belligerents  rot  quietly  at  the  wharves.  It  is  not,  then, 
either  for  our  commerce  or  ouf  navigation  that  we  need  the  navy. 

The  use  of  the  armed  force  in  war  is  for  two  purposes-  -to  pro- 


417  UNITED  STATES  NAVY.  5 

tect  our  own  country,  and  to  annoy  and  distress  the  enemy.  Let 
us  see  which  function  our  navy  discharges,  if  it  discharge  either. 

The  navy  is  no  protection  to  our  homes,  to  our  firesides,  to  our 
country,  in  war.  For  this  we  rely  on  the  army,  the  militia,  the 
forts  and  military  posts.  Anchored  in  our  harbors,  our  seventy- 
fours,  compared  Avith  the  land  battery,  are  very  inefficient ;  and, 
surely,  sailing  over  the  ocean,  they  do  not  defend  the  country. 
The  whole  navy  of  Great  Britain  could  not  deffend  us,  or  prevent 
an  enemy  from  landing  on  some  part  of  our  extended  coast.  What 
could  our  fifty  ships  do  in  this  service  ?  Military  men  themselves 
never  depend  on  ships  of  war  for  the  defence  of  the  country  which 
employs  them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  navy  cantiot  seriously 
annoy  the  enemy  on  the  ocean.  Privateers,  who  pay  themselves 
by  their  plunder,  are  the  most  efficient  means  of  annoyance.  In 
this  kind  of  glory,  our  navy  would  not  share  to  any  extent;  theirs 
is  the  glory,  not  of  stealing,  but  of  slaughter  without  any  profit  or 
advantage  whatever  from  the  slaughter. 

In  war,  our  ships  are  but  slaughter-houses  for  American  seamen. 
Those  not  blockaded,  would  sail  on  the  ocean  singly, — that  is  said 
to  be  the  best  arrangement, — flying  from  the  stronger,  and  chasing 
the  weaker  enemy.  Now  and  then,  some  of  them  would  catch  a 
figTit — a  hard  fight — gun  for  gun — man  for  man — and  the  issue 
about  as  many  killed  on  their  decks  as  on  the  decks  of  the  enemy. 
In  the  name  of  God,  our  common  Father,  I  ask,  why  drag  out  our 
seamen  thus  to  be  killed,  in  killing  others  ?  Grant  a  successful 
termination  to  the  fight,  aye,  to  the  whole  naval  war ;  let  every 
ship  of  our  navy  capture  or  sink  an  enemy's  ship  ;  let  each.seventy- 
four  kill  five  hundred  men,  and  every  frigate,  two  hundred  men, 
and  every  sloop,  one  hundred  men,  would  this  loss  so  humble  Great 
Britain,  as  to  make  her  down  upon  her  knees,  and  beg  for  peace  ? 
Great  Britain  could  lose  more  ships  than  we  could  possibly  fight 
with  in  a  five  years'  war,  and  very  calmly  go  about  building  others. 
Queen  Victoria's  throne  would  not  be  overturned.  If  we  were  to 
lose  the  same  comparative  number  of  our  fighting  ships,  as  we 
could  in  a  most  successful  ocean  war  conquer  of  hers,  it  would  not 
severely  distress  us ;  we  could  bear  this  ;  she  could  bear  this.  It 
would  not  alarm  either,  or  tend  to  bring  about  a  peace.  The 
fighting  on  the  ocean  is  aimless  and  objectless;  we  can  in  no 
event  seriously  injure  the  enemy,  and  most  probably  the  extent 
of  the  injury  done,  would  be  about  the  amount  of  the  injury  that 
we  suffered  in  doing  it. 

It  may  be  said,  that  we  have  forgotten  thfe  glory  of  this  warfare, 
the  wreath  of  laurels  that  would  entwine  the  brows  of  more  than  a 
dozen  captains.  It  is  most  true  that  we  have  overlooked  it ;  and 
generosity  should  compel  us  to  allow  this  glory,  for  this  is  all  that 
our  fighting  ships  ever  possibly  achieve.  Let  us  then  admit  glory 
frankly  and  freely.  How  to  estimate  it,  is  the  difficulty.  A  cap- 
tain has  battered  and  sunk  an  enemy's  frigate,  and  his  own  frigate 
is  only  half  torn  to  pieces.  He  has  killed  one  hundred  and  ten 
Englishmen,  and  has  wdftnded  fifty-eight  more,  while  only  fifty- 


^  UNITED  STATES  NAVY.  418 

five  of  his  own  crew  have  been  slaughtered  outright,  and  only 
twenty-nine  more  are  in  the  cock-pit,  maimed  and  mutilated,  some 
slowly  dying  of  their  wounds,  some  writhing  in  agony  under  the 
surgeon's  knife.  The  ocean  is  reddened  a  little  more  by  the  life- 
blood  of  Englishmen  than  by  the  life-blood  of  Americans.  Most 
glorious!  for  this,  gallant  sir  I  for  this  you  sail  on  the  ocean — for 
glory — your  proudest  achievement  is  the  killing  of  more  of  the 
enemy  than  you  cause  to  be  slaughtered  of  your  own  crew,  upon 
your  own  decks ! 

Imagine  that  between  this  country  and  some  other  country,  lay 
a  broad  tract  of  land,  a  sandy  desert,  uninhabited,  useful  only  as 
the  passage  ground  between  the  nations.  A  war  is  declared.  We 
send  out  some  fifty  wagons,  armed  with  swivels  and  muskets.  The 
enemy  sends  out  his  wagons  too.  These  wagons  meet  occasion- 
ally, and  fight,  and  attempt  to  destroy  each  other;  a  species  of 
guerilla  warfare  is  kept  yp.  About  as  many  are  killed  in  the 
wagons  of  one  country  as  in  those  of  the  other.  What  matter  who 
succeeds,  who  has  the  little  victory  ?  Tears  of  the  bereaved  fall, 
the  wail  of  orphans  goes  up  to  God,  and  there  is  sorrow  in  both  the 
countries  at  every  encounter ;  but,  however  sanguinary  this  guerilla 
warfare,  whatever  be  the  number  killed  on  eitlicr  side,  or  how  many 
wagons  destroyed,  it  has  no  effect  whatever  seriously  to  injure  or 
benefit  either  nation,  or  induce  either  to  sue  for  peace.  Such  is 
naval  warfare,  most  glorious  and  chivalric  ! 

There  is  one  apology  for  a  navy,  which  can  hardly  fail  to  create 
a  smile.  It  was  once  said,  that  a  navy  was  necessary,  if  our  nation 
were  in  this  predicament — if  it  had  declared  war,  and  a  nation 
against  whom  it  issued  the  proclamation  of  war,  did  not  choose  to  at- 
tack us,  how  could  we  fight  without  a  navy  to  go  in  quest  of  a  foe ! 

Reader,  are  you  a  Christian,'  and  can  you  support  an  establish- 
ment, the  only  function  of  which  is  useless  carnage,  offensive  war? 
We  do  not  now  say  to  you,  that  you  should  not  call  out  the  army, 
or  build  forts  for  your  protection.  You  may  not  be  prepared  to 
carry  out  in  full  the  principle  of  "overcoming  evil  with  good;" 
but,  if  you  claim  the  name  of  Christian,  how  can  you  support  a 
navy  useless  in  peace,  and  which  in  war  carries  on  the  work  of 
death  without  the  poor  apology  or  excuse  that  the  bloodshed  is 
useful  to  you  ?  In  the  name  of  common  sense,  give  up  useless 
murder.  Do  not  make  unnecessary  slaughter.  Defend  your 
country,  if  you  will;  but  remember  that  your  trade  and  commerce 
with  other  countries  are  not  worth  fighting  for ;  that  even  were 
they  worth  fighting  for,  you  annihilate  trade  and  commerce  by  the 
very  declaration  of  war. 

Unpopular  as  this  view  may  appear  to  some,  depend  upon  it,  the 
time  is  rapidly  approaching  when  fighting  will  be  deemed  dis- 
graceful to  a  civilized  people.  In  saying  this,  we  cast  no  reflection 
upon  the  officers  of  the  navy,  or  upon  its  friends.  Their  education 
and  habits  of  life  cause  them  to  look  upon  this  service  in  a  false 
light  When  the  true  light  comes  to  their  minds,  they  will  be 
ready  to  abandon  the  navy  at  once.  "  Onward,"  is  the  watchword 
of  every  heroic  soul. 


419  UNITED    STATES    NAVY.  T 

A  Sea-Fight. — Can  the  friends  of  the  navy,  as  Christians,  or 
as  men  possessing  the  usual  kindly  feelings  of  our  nature,  read  the 
following  description  by  an  eye-witness,  and  not  pray  for  our  suc- 
cess in  overthrowing  a  navy,  the  only  function  of  which  is  useless 
carnage  ?  The  veteran  officers,  they  who  have  seen  service  of  this 
kind,  will  bid  us  God  speed  in  our  efforts  to  make  an  end  of  such 
unnecessary  slaughter. 

"  As  the  approaching  ship,"  says  Leech,  then  a  boy  on  board 
a  British  man-of-war,  "  showed  American  colors,  we  all  felt  we 
must  fight  her,  and  made  every  possible  arrangement  for  success. 
The  firing  commenced.  The  roaring  of  cannon  could  now  be 
heard  from  all  parts  of  our  trembling  ship,  and  mingling  with 
that  of  our  foes,  it  made  a  most  hideous  noise.  By-and-by  I  heard 
the  shot  strike  the  sides  of  our  ship ;  the  whole  scene-  grew  inde- 
scribably confused  and  horrible  ;  it  was  like  some  awfully  tremen- 
dous thunder-storm,  carrying  death  in  every  flash,  and  strewing 
the  ground  with  its  victims ;  only  in  our  case  the  scene  was  ren- 
dered more  horrible  by  the  torrents  of  blood  on  our  decks. 

The  cries  of  the  wounded  now  rang  through  all  parts  of  the  ship. 
These  were  carried  to  the  cockpit  as  fast  as  they  fell,  while  those 
more  fortunate  men  who  were  killed  outright,  were  immediately 
thrown  overboard.  A  man  had  one  of  his  hands  cut  off  by  a  shot, 
and  almost  at  the  same  moment  he  received  another  shot,  which 
tore  open  his  bowels  in  a  terrible  manner.  As  he  fell,  two  or  three 
men  took  him,  and,  as  he  could  not  live,  threw  him  overboard.  The 
battle  went  on.  Our  men  kept  cheering  with  all  their  might.  I 
cheered  with  them,  though  I  confess  I  scarcely  knew  for  what. 
Certainly,  there  was  nothing  very  inspiriting  in  the  aspect  of  things 
where  I  was  stationed.  So  terrible  had  been  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion round  us,  it  was  termed  the  slaughter-house.  Not  only  had 
we  had  several  boys  and  men  killed  and  wounded,  but  several  of 
the  guns  were  disabled.  The  schoolmaster  received  a  death  wound. 
The  brave  boatswain,  who  came  from  the  sick  bed  to  the  din  of 
battle,  was  fastening  a  stopper  on  a  back-stay  which  had  been  shot 
away,  when  his  head  twas  smashed  to  pieces  by  a  cannon-ball ; 
another  man,  going  to  complete  the  unfinished  task,  was  also  struck 
down.  The  ward-room  steward  was  killed.  A  fellow  named  John, 
was  carried  past  me,  wounded ;  and  I  distinctly  heard  the  large 
blood-drops  fall  pat,  pat,,  on  the  deck ;  his  wounds  were  mortal. 
Such  was  the  terrible  scene,  amid  which  we  kept  on  shouting 
and  firing.  Our  men  fought  like  tigers.  Some  of  them  pulled  off 
their  jackets,  others  their  jackets  and  vests ;  while  some,  with 
nothing  but  a  handkerchief  tied  round  the  waistbands  of  their 
trowsers,  fought  like  heroes. 

We  all  appeared  cheerful ;  but  I  know  that  many  a  serious 
thought  ran  through  my  mind.  I  thought  a  great  deal  of  the  other 
World ;  every  groan,  every  falling  man,  told  me  that  the  next  instant 
I  might  be  before  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth.  For  this  I  felt  unpre- 
pared ;  but  being  without  any  particular  knowledge  of  religious 
truth,  I  satisfied  myself  by  repeating  again  and  again  the  Lord's 


9  UNITED    STATES    NAVY.  420 

prayer,  and  promising,  that  if  spared,  I  would  be  more  attentive  to 
religious  duties  then  ever  before. 

While  these  thoughts  secretly  agitated  my  bosom,  the  din  of 
battle  continued.  Grape  and  canister  shot  were  pouring  through 
our  port-holes  like  leaden  rain,  carrying  death  in  tlieir  trail.  The 
large  shot  came  against  the  ship's  side  like  iron  hail,  shaking  her 
to  the  very  keel,  or  passing  through  her  timbers,  and  scattering 
terrific  splinters,  which  did  a  more  appalling  work  than  even  their 
own  death-giving  blows.  What  with  splinters,  cannon  balls,  grape 
and  canister,  poured  incessantly  upon  us,  the  reader  may  be  assured 
that  the  work  of  death  went  on  in  a  manner  which  must  have  been 
satisfactory  even  to  the  King  of  terrors  himself. 

Suddenly,  the  rattling  of  the  iron  hail  ceased.  We  were  ordered 
to  cease  firing.  A  profound  silence  ensued,  broken  only  by  the 
stifled  groans  of  the  brave  sufferers  below.  The  enemy  had  shot 
ahead  to  repair  damages,  while  we  were  so  cut  up  that  we  lay  ut- 
terly helpless.  Our  head  braces  were  shot  away ;  the  fore  and  main 
top-masts  were  gone ;  the  mizzen  mast  hung  over  the  stern,  having 
carried  several  men  over  in  its  ftill ;  we  were  a  complete  wreck. 
The  officers  held  a  council,  and  concluded  to  strike  our  colors. 

I  now  went  below,  to  see  how  matters  appeared  there.  The  first 
object  I  met,  was  a  man  bearing  a  limb  which  had  just  been  de- 
tached from  some  suffering  wretch.  Pursuing  my  way  to  the  ward- 
room, I  necessarily  passed  through  the  steerage,  which  was  strewed 
with  the  wounded ;  it  was  a  sad  spectacle,  made  more  appalling  by 
the  groans  and  cries  which  rent  the  air.  Some  were  groaning, 
others  were  swearing  most  bitterly,  a  few  were  praying,  while  those 
last  arrived,  were  begging  most  piteously  to  have  their  wounds 
dressed  next  The  surgeon  and  his  mate  were  smeared  with  blood 
from  head  to  foot ;  they  looked  more  like  butchers  than  doctors. 
Having  so  many  patients,  tliey  had  once  shifted  their  quarters  from 
the  cockpit  to  the  steerage ;  they  now  removed  to  the  ward-room, 
and  the  long  table,  round  which  the  officers  had  set  over  many  a 
merry  feast,  was  soon  covered  witli  the  bleeding  forms  of  maimed 
and  mutilated  seamen.  I  now  set  to  work  to  render  all  the  aid  in 
my  power  to  the  sufferers.  Our  carpenter,  named  Reed,  had  his 
leg  cut  off.  I  helped  to  carry  him  to  the  after  ward-room ;  but  he 
soon  breathed  out  his  life  there,  and  then  I  assisted  in  throwing  his 
mangled  remains  overboard.  We  got  out  the  cots  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble ;  for  most  of  them  were  stretched  out  on  the  gory  deck.  One 
poor  fellow  who  lay  with  a  broken  thigh,  begged  me  to  give  him 
water.  I  gave  him  some.  He  looked  unutterable  gratitude,  drank, 
and  died.  It  was  with  exceeding  difficulty  I  moved  through  the 
steerage,  it  was  so  covered  with  mangled  men,  and  so  slippery  with 
streams  of  blood.  Such  scenes  of  suffering  as  I  saw  in  that  ward- 
room, I  hope  never  to  witness  again.  Could  the  civilized  world 
behold  them  as  they  were,  and  as  they  often  are,  infinitely  wors^ 
than  on  that  occasion,  it  seems  to  me  they  would  forever  put  down 
the  barbarous  practice  of  war  by  universal  consent" 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,   MASS. 


No.  XLTHI. 

MISTAKES    ABOUT   PEACE. 


The  cause  of  peace,  aiming  solely  to  abolish  war,  is  fairly  re- 
sponsible merely  for  what  is  necessary  to  this  result.  Some  of  its 
friends  may  take  ground  too  high,  others  too  low,  and  occasionally 
use  arguments  or  measures  which  we  cannot  approve ;  but  the 
cause  itself  is  bound  to  meet  only  objections  against  special,  asso- 
ciated efforts  for  the  abolition  ^this  custom.  If  this  object  is  not  a 
good  one,  or  if  no  specific  efforts  ought  to  be  made  for  its  accom- 
plishment, then  is  the  cause  of  peace  unworthy  of  support.  But 
will  any  fair-minded  man  take  either  of  these  positions  ?  If  not, 
what  valid  objections  can  there  be  to  this  cause  ?  Yet  such  objec- 
tions are  now  and  then  urged,  and  we  will  here  attempt  a  very  brief 
answer  to  the  most  common  and  plausible. 

1.  The  gospel  is  the  only  remedy  for  war ;  preach  that,  and  war 
will  cease. — So  we  believe,  but  insist  on  the  necessity  of  its  being 
rightly  applied.  Will  the  best  medicine  in  the  world  heal  the 
man  that  does  not  take  it  .^  Surely  not ;  you  must  apply  the 
remedy  to  the  disease,  put  the  salve  on  the  sore,  before  it  can 
effect  a  cure.  Is  the  gospel  an  exception  to  this  law  of  common 
sense  7  Can  it  cure  evils  to  which  it  is  never  applied  ?  How 
does  it  produce  any  result  ?  How  bring  the  sinner  to  repentance "? 
Only  by  its  truths  addressed  to  his  soul.  How  will  it  ever  abolish 
paganism  ?  Solely  by  being  sent  and  applied  to  paganism.  How 
refute  any  error,  or  reform  any  sin  ?  Only  by  a  right,  direct,  spe- 
cific application  to  such  errors  and  sins.  The  gospel  is  the  only 
effectual  antidote  to  war;  but  we  insist  on  a  right  application  of 
its  pacific  principles.  It  has  never  been  thus  applied ;  and  the 
mistake  lies  in  supposing,  that  the  gospel,  as  hitherto  received  by 
Christians,  will  abolish  this  custom.  If  it  will,  why  has  it  not  ? 
The  nations  of  Christendom  are  the  most  notorious  fighters  on  earth, 
and  its  standing  armies  have  increased  in  a  single  century  from 
half  a  million  to  three  and  even  four  millions ; — an  increase  of  eight 
hundred  per  cent !    Can  such  a  process  ever  bring  war  to  an  end  ? 

2.  But  you  need  only  make  men  real  Christians,  and  they  will 
cease  to  fight. — Will  they  ?  Have  they?  No  real  Christians  ever 
engage  in  war  7  Are  there  none  such  among  the  three  millions 
of  standing  warriors  now  in  Christendom  ?  Were  there  none 
among  the  fathers  of  our  own  Revolution  ?  Not  one  among  all  the 
myriads  who  have  fought  from  time  immemorial  in  the  wars  of 
Christendom  ? — '  You  mean  that  men,  brought  under  the/itZZ  power 
of  the  gospel,  will  wage  no  unjust  w^ars.'  Does  any  body  now 
wage  them  .''  Who  shall  judge  what  are  such  wars  ?  '  Those  of 
course  who  'v^Jtge  them.'  But  has  any  monster  of  blood  in  Chris- 
tendom engaged  for  centuries  past  in  a  war  that  he  admitted  to  be 

P,  T.      NO.  XLVIII. 


it  MISTAKES  ABOUT  PEACE.  422 

unjust,  offensive  ?  Napoleon  himself,  on  his  death-bed,  solemnly 
declared  he  had  ever  acted  solely  in  defence,  and  went  to  his  last 
account  under  the  delusion,  that  he  had  been  only  a  defensive 
warrior.  Can  such  a  theory  ever  put  an  end  to  war  ? — '  You  mean, 
that  when  all  men  become  real,  millennial  Christians,  there  will  be 
none  to  make  aggressive  wars,  and  of  course  no  wars  in  defence.^ 
But  it  must  be  long  before  all  men  will  become  such  Christians  ; 
and  meanwhile  shall  we  make  no  efforts  to  abolish  war  r 

3.  ffhai  need  of  special,  associated  efforts  for  peace  ?  Let  existing 
agencies,  such  as  the  church,  the  ministry  and  the  press,  do  the  work, 
and  thus  supersede  the  necessity  of  peace  societies. — Most  earnestly 
do  we  wish  they  would  ;  and,  whenever  they  shall,  they  will  take 
the  matter  very  much  o"ut  of  our  hands.  As  yet,  however,  they 
have  not  done  so ;  and,  until  they  do,  shall  nothing  be  done  for 
peace  ?  May  we  not  even  attempt  to  rouse  the  church  ?  She 
ought  to  have  arrested  the  ravages  of  intemperance,  and  spread 
the  gospel  over  the  whole  earth ;  but,  since  she  did  neither,  and 
gave  no  promise  of  doing  either  very  soon,  was  it  a  superfluous  and 
reprehensible  service  for  individual  volunteers,  as  they  did,  to  lead 
the  van  in  those  movements,  and  rouse  the  church  to  her  long 
neglected  duty  on  those  subjects  ?  If  the  church  loill  do  what  is 
needed  in  the  cause  of  peace,  then  let  her  do  it,  and  thus  super- 
sede our  efforts  ;  but,  utitil  she  does  this,  we  certainly  ought,  as 
the  pioneers  of  temperance  and  of  missions  did,  to  stimulate  her 
to  her  duty  on  this  subject,  and  rally  as  many  as  we  can  in  special 
efforts  for  the  extinction  of  war. 

4.  The  time  has  not  come  for  such  efforts. — Why  not?  God  has 
promised  (Isa.  ii.  1 — 4)  that  wars  shall  cease  under  the  Christian 
dispensation.  Are  we  not  living  under  this  very  dispensation  ? 
Then  ought  God's  promise  of  peace  now  to  be  in  a  course  of  actual 
fulfilment  through  all  Christendom.  The  time  for  God  to  fulfil  any 
of  his  promises,  is  just  when  men  will  use  the  requisite  means ; 
and,  if  tlie  time  for  peace  co-extensive  with  Christianity  has  not 
yet  come,  in  what  year  of  our  Lord  will  it  come  ? 

5.  Wait  till  the  millennium ;  Achen  that  comes, — never  before, — 
peace  mil  follow  as  a  matter  of  course. — Very  true ;  and  so  will 
repentance  and  faith  follow  equally  as  a  matter  of  coui-se ;  but 
how  ?  Is  the  millennium  to  come  first,  and  then  all  mankind  to  be 
converted  as  one  of  its  results  ;  or  is  the  conversion  of  the  whole 
world  to  usher  in  and  to  constitute  the  millennium  itself?  How 
would  you  introduce  a  millennium  of  repentance  ?  Solely  by  first 
filling  the  world  with  repentance — with  men  penitent  for  their 
sins.  How  a  millennium  of  fnith  ?  By  filling  tlie  earth  with 
faith — with  believers  in  Jesus.  How  then  a  millennium  of  peace  ? 
In  the  same  way  ;  for  peace,  just  like  repentance  and  faith,  must 
come  b^ore  the  millennium,  as  one  of  its  indispensable  harbingers, 
or  along  withthe  millennium,  as  one  of  its  inseparable  concomitants. 

6.  Spfxial  efforts  are  not  necessary  for  this  purpose  ;  peace  iviU 
comf  as  the  result  of  the  good  general  influences  merted  by  Chris- 
tianity, and  civilization,  and  commerce,  and  various  other  agencies 
already  at  work. — We  are  far  from  undervaluing  such  agencies  or 


423  MISTAKES    ABOUT    PEACE.  3 

influences  ;  but  they  can  supersede  special  efforts  in  this  cause  no 
more  than  they  have  in  that  of  temperance,  missions,  or  any  simi- 
lar enterprise.  If  such  efforts  were  needed  to  start  and  sustain 
those  causes,  are  they  not  equally  so  in  this  cause  ?  Doubtless 
these  good  general  influences  contribute  much  to  the  peace  of 
Christendom ;  but  have  they  lieretofore  sufficed  in  every  case  to 
hold  back  the  thunder-bolts  of  war?  Commerce,  and  civilization, 
and  a  degenerate  Christianity,  have  been  in  operation  all  over 
Europe  for  centuries ;  and  yet  have  they  utterly  failed  to  abolish 
the  war-system,  or  to  prevent  a  rapid  succession  of  the  most  deso- 
lating- wars.  Shall  we  then  abandon  the  cause  of  peace  to  such 
agencies  ?  These  agencies  can  become  useful  mainly  by  receiv- 
ing a  right  direction  ;  and  it  is  ours  to  concentrate  them  upon  our 
purpose  of  abolishing  war.  As  no  power  of  steam  or  of  water- 
falls can,  until  rightly  applied,  propel  machinery  of  any  kind,  so 
would  we  apply  all  the  good  general  influences  of  the  age  to  in- 
sure the  perpetual  peace  of  Christendom  and  the  world. 

7.  But  there  are  other  causes  more  important. — If  it  were  so,  has 
this  cause  no  importance  ?  If  it  has,  then  let  it  receive  its  proper 
share  of  support.  Only  one  cause  can  be  the  most  important  of 
all  ;  but  do  you  contribute  to  none  besides  that  single  one  ? 
Why  ?  Because  every  wheel  in  the  general  machinery  of  benevo- 
lence is  essential  to  the  grand  results  ultimately  sought ;  and 
hence  you  inquire,  not  whether  this  or  that  wheel  is  more  impor- 
tant than  some  others,  but  whether  the  entire  machine,  with  all  its 
subordinate  and  complicated  parts,  is  needed  for  the  work  to  be 
done ;  for,  if  so,  then  must  every  part  be  sustained  in  its  place. 
We  would  not,  cannot  exaggerate  the  importance  of  peace  ;  but, 

"^o  say  nothing  about  the  millions  of  lives,  and  the  myriads  of 
treasure  which  it  would  save,  nothing  of  the  vices,  and  crimes, 
and  deluge  of  miseries  for  two  worlds  which  it  would  prevent,  it 
is  an  important,  if  not  indispensable  auxiliary  to  every  cause  now 
in  progress  for  this  world's  conversion  or  general  improvement. 
More  has  been  done  for  such  purposes  during  the  last  thirty  years 
of  general  peace,  (1845,)  than  had  been  done  for  many  centuries 
before  ;  and  the  continuance  of  peace  is  essential  to  the  full  suc- 
cess, if  not  to  the  very  existence  of  these  great  benevolent  enter- 
prises. We  must  have  peace,  or  stop  in  our  work  of  recovering  a 
world  from  the  ruins  of  the  fall. 

8,  But  there  is  no  war  at  present,  none  in  prospect ;  and  why  labor 


t 


abor  with  success.  Let  war  come  or  approach ;  and  no  man  could 
then  plead  for  peace  without  being  branded  as  a  traitor  to  his 
country.  Would  you  try  to  reform  the  drunkard  while  reeling 
into  the  gutter,  or  Avait  for  the  flames  to  envelope  your  house,  and 
sweep  in  a  whirlwind  over  your  whole  city,  before  you  prepare 
engines  to  extinguish  the  devouring  element  ? 

9.  Well,  we  are  peaceable  enough  ourselves ;  go  to  Warriors  and 
war-makers  with  your  pleas  for  peace. — So  we  mean  to  do  ;  but,  if 
you  are  so  pacific,  will  you  not  go  with  us,  and  help  make  them  as 
peaceable  as  yourselves  ?    We  look  to  t^lie  temperate  for  the  pro- 


4  MISTAKES    ABOUT    PEACE.  424 

motion  of  temperance,  to  Christians  for  the  spread  of  Christianity, 
and  must  we  not  rely  in  like  manner  upon  the  professed  friends  of 
peace  to  carry  forward  this  enterprise  ? 

10.  But  we  do  not  agree  with  you  in  all  your  views. — Very  like ; 
but  you  agree  with  us  precisely  as  much  as  we  do  with  you ;  and, 
if  you  may  excuse  yourselves  because  you  differ  from  us,  we  may 
excuse  ourselves  because  we  differ  from  you,  and  thus  could  noth- 
ing ever  be  done  for  this  cause  by  any  body.  We  certainly  agree 
in  thinking  that  war  ought  to  be  abolished ;  and  no  further  agree- 
ment is  necessary  for  cordial,  zealous,  efficient  co-operation.  Then 
wliy  not  unite  with  us  for  its  actual  abolition  ?  You  cannot  with- 
out endorsing  what  you  do  not  believe  ?  Nobody  requires  this  of 
you ;  nor  would  the  most  active  co-operation  make  you  responsible 
for  any  sentiments  not  your  own. 

•  11.  Bui  the  Jews  waged  war  at  God's  command. — True ;  and 
when  he  commands  us  to  make  war,  we  too  may ;  but  do  those 
wars  render  the  custom  harmless,  or  its  continuance  desirable  ? 

12.  Bui  peace  vxUl  paralyze  the  arm  of  law  and  good  government. — 
Just  the  reverse ;  for,  as  Cicero  says,  "  laws  are  silent  in  the 
midst  of  arms."  War  is  a  temporary  despotism  or  anarchy ;  it 
suspends  every  law  but  its  own,  and  makes  government  itself  a 
mere  tool  for  its  bloody  purposes.  It  is  the  operations  of  war,  not 
the  principles  of  peace,  that  crush  or  cripple  government,  and  in- 
troduce the  reign  of  violence,  terror  and  lawless  crime.  Is  wa-r 
necessary  to  government  ?  Must  nations  butcher  one  another  in 
order  to  govern  themselves  ?  If  duelling  should  cease,  would  pa- 
rents lose  their  authority  over  their  own  families  ?  Should  the 
whole  war-system  come  to  an  end,  would  not  every  government 
still  retain  its  right  to  control  and  punish  its  own  subjects  ?  Could ^ 
It  not,  if  it  chose,  continue  to  hang  the  murderer,  to  imprison  the 
thief,  and  employ  an  armed  police  for  the  suppression  of  mobs, 
riots,  and  other  popular  outbreaks  ? 

13.  But,  without  war,  we  could  neither  get  nor  keep  our  liberties. — 
Yes  we  could  ;  and  but  for  war,  how  would  any  nation  ever  have 
,lost  them  ?  War  has  ever  been  the  chief  enslaver  of  mankind. 
What  gave  rise  to  slavery  and  the  slave-trade  ?  What  stabbed  the 
liberties  of  Greece  and  Rome  ?  What  has  proved  the  ruin  of 
nearly  all  former  republics  ?  War.  Our  own  case  is  a  singular 
exception,  from  which  no  general  inference  can  safely  be  drawn  ; 
and  still  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  we  do  not  owe  our  own 
freedom  to  other  causes  than  the  sword,  and  whether  it  would  not 
in  due  time  have  come  even  in  better  form  without  the  effusion 
of  blood.  Liberty,  free  institutions,  popular  rights,  are  the  growth, 
not  of  war,  but  of  peace ;  and  one  century  of  universal,  unbroken 
peace,  would  do  more  for  the  world  in  these  respects,  than  five 
thousand  years  of  blood  have  done.  Peace  is  the  nurse  of  freedom, 
of  all  its  glorious  institutions ;  and,  if  we  wish  to  diffuse  and  per- 
petuate its  blessings  over  the  whole  earth,  we  must  labor  first  for 
universal  and  permanent  peace. 


AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  XLJX. 
PEACE   AND   GOVERNMENT. 


BY    GEO.  C.  BECKWITH. 

I  REGARD  civil  government  as  lawful,  expedient  and  necessary ; 
and  for  this  belief  I  find  ample  reasons  in  the  nature  of  man,  in 
the  condition  and  wants  of  society,  in  the  past  and  present  indica- 
tions of  providence,  in  the  history  of  God's  dealings  with  his  an- 
cient people,  in  the  explicit,  oft-repeated  instructions  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  the  incidental  admissions  of  the  New.  Mankind 
are  made  for  society  ;  society  requires  government ;  and  a  govern- 
ment without  penalties,  or  without  the  right  and  power  to  enforce 
its  penalties,  and  coerce  the  obedience  of  its  own  subjects,  would 
be  not  only  a  nullity  in  practice,  but  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

I  also  believe  all  war  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  gospel.  Their 
spirit,  their  aims,  their  principles,  the  qualities  they  require,  the 
deeds  they  enjoin,  all  their  distinctive  peculiarities  are  clearly  an- 
tagonistic and  incompatible.  The  gospel  enforces  the  Decalogue 
anew;  w'ar  is  a  temporary  repeal  of  all  its  commands.  The  gospel 
enjoins  love,  not  hatred ;  forgiveness,  not  revenge ;  universal  be- 
neficence, not  indiscriminate,  wholesale  mischief;  prayer  for  our 
enemies,  not  against  them  ;  doing  them  good  instead  of  evil ;  not 
returning  evil /or  evil,  but  overcoming  it  only  with  good.  It  con- 
demns  ALL   THAT    C0>'STITUTES    WAR.      TkoU  sholt  UOt  kill ;   loVe 

thy  neighbor  as  thyself;  ivhatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do 
unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them ;  do  good  unto  all  men ;  follow  peace 
with  all  men ;  love  your  enemies ;  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you  ;  if 
thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ;  whosoever  smiteth  thee  on  one  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  also  ;  resist  not  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with 
good.  If  such  passages  as  these  do  not  condemn  all  the  moral 
elements  of  war,  I  can  imagine  no  language  that  would.  Every 
form  of  this  custom  is  a  direct  violation  of  such  precepts.  It  can 
exist  only  by  the  very  feelings  and  deeds  here  prohibited  in  the 
plainest  terms  possible.  Who  ever  heard  of  a  war  that  killed 
nobody,  that  overcame  evil  with  good,  that  turned  the  other  cheek  to 
the  smiler,  tliat  did  good  unto  all  men,  and  was  carried  on  in  the 
spirit  of  love,  forgiveness,  and  universal  beneficence  ? 

The  thing  is  plainly  impossible ;  and  hence  all  war  must  be 
utterly  unchristian,  unless  the  New  Testament  permits  it  as  an 
exception,  and  thus  exempts  government  in  this  case  from  all  obli- 
gation to  obey  such  precepts  as  I  have  just  quoted.  Here  is  the 
only  alternative ;  for,  since  every  species  of  war  confessedly  does 
what  the  Bible  forbids,  it  can  be  justified  only  on  the  ground  of 
an  express  exception  like  that  of  Abraham  sacrificing  Isaac,  or  the 
.Jewish  rulers  taking  life  as  a  punishment  for  crime.  Both  these 
contradicted  the  prohibition,  thou  shall  not  kill,  and  were  justifiable 
only  because  the  same  Lawgiver  of  Sinai  prescribed  them  as  ex- 

P.  T.       NO.   XLIX 


2  PEACE    Ar^D    GOVERNMENT.  426 

ceptions.  Can  you  find  in  the  New  Testament  a  similar  justifica- 
tion of  war  ?  Does  Christ  or  his  Apostles  exempt  nations,  in  their 
intercourse  with  each  other,  from  obligation  to  obey  the  general 
precepts  of  his  gospel,  and  expressly  permit  them,  in  palpable  con- 
tradiction of  those  precepts,  to  wage  war  in  any  case  ?  If  so,  show 
us  the  chapter  and  verse  of  such  permission. 

This  theory  of  exceptions  is  indispensable  to  the  vindication  of 
civil  government  as  an  ordinance  of  God.  It  is  quite  in  vain  to 
think  of  reconciling  any  of  its  penalties  with  the  letter  or  the  real 
import  of  such  passages  as  I  have  already  quoted.  They  are  clearly 
antipodal.-  A  government,  when  punishing  offenders  either  with 
death,  imprisonment  or  fine,  surely  does  not  turn  the  other  cheek 
to  the  smiter,  nor  overcome  evil  with  good,  nor  forgive  the  trans- 
lessor,  and  give  place  unto  wrath,  that  is,  stand  aside,  and  let 
God  alone  inflict  vengeance.  It  takes  his  place,  a  temporary  sub- 
stitute for  his  government ;  and,  armed  with  the  sword  as  "  the 
minister  of  God,"  it  comes  forth  "  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath 
(punishment)  upon  him  that  doeth  evil."  A  thief  or  a  murderer 
does  an  evil  to  individuals  or  society,  perhaps  to  both ;  and  gov- 
ernment in  turn  inflicts  upon  him  another  evil  in  the  form  of  a 
penalty  for  his  crime.  Neither  the  nature  nor  the  degree  of  this 
penalty  can  alter  the  case  ;  for,  whether  severe  or  mild,  a  halter 
or  a  prison,  a  pecuniary  fine,  or  simple  disgrace,  you  return  one 
evil  for  another ;  not  perhaps  the  same,  yet  still  an  evil,  not  a 
blessing  or  a  pleasure.  It  is  retribution.  You  do  not  forgive ; 
you  punish.  The  offender  has  done  an  evil,  and  you  make  him 
suffer  for  it.  This  I  call  retribution.  It  may  be  righteous,  and 
even  merciful ;  still  it  is  retribution  or  retaliation,  one  evil  returned 
in  punishment  for  another.  I  take  this  to  be  the  central  idea  of  all 
punishment  It  is  plainly  absurd  to  speak  of  forgiving  any  one 
that  is  punislied.  Forgiveness  and  punishment  are  antagonistic,' 
incompatible  ideas.  A  murderer  pardoned,  yet  hung !  A  sinner 
forgiven,  and  then  sent  to  hell ! !  The  forgiveness  of  an  offender 
is  the  remission  of  his  punishment,  and  his  restoration  to  the  favor 
he  has  forfeited ;  and  hence  all  penal  acts  are  in  plain,  palpable 
contradiction  of  those  precepts  which  require  us  to  forgive,  or  to 
overcome  evil  with  good,  and  can  be  justified  only  as  exceptions 
made  by  the  same  authority  that  enjoined  the  latter.  In  his  epistle 
to  the  Romans,  Paul  puts  this  exception  by  the  side  of  the  rule  ; 
for,  after  bidding  us  not  avenge  ourselves,  but  give  place  for  God 
to  repay  vengeance,  while  we  overcome  evil  only  with  good,  he 
proceeds  immediately  to  represent  civil  government  as  "  the  ordi- 
nance of  God,  a  terror  to  evil  works,  bearing  not  the  sword  in 
vain  ;  as  the  minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  urath  upon  him 
that  doeth  evil."  (Rom.  xii.  17, 21,  an^  xiii.  1—7.)  Thus  does  Paul 
expressly  allow  to  government  what  he  had  repeatedly  forbidden 
to  individuals ;  and  the  former  is  consistent  with  the  latter  only  as 
a  special  exception  to  a  general  rule.  Peter  also  speaks  (1  Pet  ii. 
13-— 17)  of  governors  as  sent,  by  God  for  the  punishment  of  evil 
doers ;  and  the  New  Testament,  like  the  Old,  distinctly  recognizes 
the  right  of  government  to  punish  and  coerce  its  own  subjects. 


427 


PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT. 


The  motive  of  punishment  does  not  materially  affect  the  argument. 
If  evil  is  returned  for  evil,  or  attempted  to  be  overcome  vyith  evil, 
the  letter,  the  real  import  of  the  gospel  is  contravened,  so  far  as  this 
class  of  precepts  is  concerned,  and  can  be  justified  only  by  producing 
counter  instructions  from  the  same  authority.  If  you  say  you  can 
chastise  your  child,  and  government  can  send  a  vagrant  or  a 
drunkard  to  the  house  of  correction  for  their  good,  I  grant  it,  but 
insist  that  such  cases  are  remedial  rather  than  punitive,  and  should 
be  regarded  as  methods  of  discipline,  and  means  of  reformation. 
Do  you  deem  it  possible  to  punish  without  malice ;  to  fine,  imprison, 
and  even  hang  an  offender,  from  motives  of  benevolence  ?  Be  it 
so  ;  but  from  motives  of  benevolence  to  whom  ?  Surely  not  to  the 
criminal,  but  to  the  individuals  or  the  community  whom  he  has 
injured.  Both  the  motive  and  the  deed  may  be  right ;  but  for 
neither  of  them  can  you  get  any  authority  from  such  passages  as  I 
have  heretofore  adduced.  These  forbid  an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  stripe 
for  a  blow;  one  evil  in  the  form  of  penalty,  for  another  in  the 
shape  of  crime.  I  fully  believe  that  tlje  gospel  allows  such  retri- 
bution, such  condign  punishment  even  here  ;  but  our  authority  for 
this  we  must  seek  in  a  class  of  texts  quite  different  from  the  for- 
mer, and  which  restrict  the  application  of  these  texts  without  al- 
tering their  import.  When  God  requires  us  not  to  resist  evil,  but 
overcome  it  with  good,  he  means  precisely  what  he  says ;  and 
when  he  subsequently  authorizes  rulers  to  punish  wrong  doers,  an 
eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  he  introduces  an  exception 
to  that  general  rule.  I  admit  the  exception  to  be  as  valid  as  the 
rule ;  but  it  is  only  an  exception,  not  the  rule,  and  cannot  alter  the 
meaning  of  the  latter  considered  in  itself.  Should  a  legislature 
ordain,  that  every  man  shall  be  liable  to  military  service,  and  after- 
wards exempt  certain  persons  from  such  service,  this  exemption 
would  of  course  be  as  valid  as  the  general  law  ;  but  it  would  still 
be  a  mtrt  exception,  and  could  neither  alter  th^  natural  import  of 
that  law  in  itself  considered,  nor  prove  that,  without  such  an  ex- 
ception, every  citizen  would  not  actually  be  required  to  do  mili- 
tary duty. 

This  principle  of  exceptions  is  no  novelty.  The  same  God  that 
proclaimed  from  Sinai,  thjou  shall  not  kili,,  bade  Joshua  destroy 
the  Canaanites,  and  required  Jewish  rulers  to  inflict  the  penalty 
of  death  for  a  variety  of  crimes  ;  but  it  would  be  preposterous  to 
adduce  these  exceptions  as  so  many  proofs  that  the  sixth  com- 
mandment does  not  mean  just  what  it  says.  This  is  the  rule, 
those  the  exceptions.  The  rule  forbids  all  taking  of  life.  Even 
Dr.  Dwight,  though  a  staunch  advocate  both  of  capital  punishment 
and  defensive  war,  still  says  of  the  prohibition,  thou  shall  not  kill, 
"  to  kill  is  the  thing  here  forbidden ;  and  by  the  words  it  is  for- 
bidden in  all  cases  lohatsoever.  Whenever  we  kill,  therefore,  we 
are  guilty  of  transgressing  this  command,  unless  we  are  permitted 
to  take  away  the  life  in  question  by  an  exception  which  God  him- 
self has  made  to  the  ruky  Here  is  the  principle  of  reasoning,  the 
law  of  exceptions,  for  which  I  contend.  The  sixth  command,  in 
itself  considered,  forbids  the  taking  of  life  in  any  case ;  but  it 


4  PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT.  428 

surely  does  not  follow,  that  the  author  of  this  prohibition  might  not 
himself  require  or  permit  the  sacrifice  of  life,  or  that  the  infliction 
of  capital  punishment  in  such  case  would  contravene  his  will.  It 
would  of  course  contravene  the  prohibition,  thou  shall  not  kill,  be- 
cause life  would  actually  be  taken ;  but  it  would  still  be  an  act  of 
obedience  to  what  he  subsequently  enjoins  as  a  modification  of 
that  commandment 

We  need  this  law  of  exceptions  to  meet  other  difficulties  in  the 
Bible.  It  is  as  easy  to  reconcile  civil  government  with  the  strictest 
principles  of  peace,  as  it  is  with  other  undeniable  precepts  of  the 
gospel.  Penalties  of  every  kind  and  degree  contradict  many  of 
these  precepts,  and  can  be  justified  only  on  the  ground  of  their 
being  permitted  as  exceptions  ;  but  war  is  not  thus  permitted,  and 
therefore  comes  under  the  full  condenmation  of  such  precepts  as 
I  have  briefly  quoted  on  the  subject 

I  plead,  then,  both  for  peace  and  for  government,  nor  deem 
them  at  all  incompatible.  I  believe  all  war  contrary  to  the  gospel, 
yet  regard  government  as  an  institution  divinely  appointed  for  the 
good  of  mankind,  and  authorized  at  discretion  to  punish  and  coerce 
its  subjects.  I  wish  at  present  to  prove  not  the  trutli  of  these 
positions,  but  merely  their  consistency  with  each  other.  I  sup- 
pose all  peace-men,  in  distinction  from  those  modern  non-resist- 
ants who  deny  the  Vight  of  man  to  punish  or  coerce  his  fellow-man 
in  any  case,  believe  in  the  lawfulness  of  government  with  all  the 
penalties  and  powers  requisite  for  the  M-ell-being  of  society.  So 
William  Penn  himself  thought  His  peace  principles  did  not 
allow  him  to  use  or  prepare  warlike  means  of  defence  against  even 
the  ferocious  savages  surrounding  his  colony ;  yet  he  incorporated 
in  his  code  of  laws  the  penalty  of  death  for  murder,  and  deemed  it 
necessary  to  arm  government  with  power  to  coerce  the  obedience 
of  its  oum  subjects. 

I  admit  the  difficulty  to  be  a  serious  one,  and  wish  to  put  it  in 
the  strongest  light  possible.  '  If  a  government  may  punish  its  own 
subjects,  wh}'  not  wage  war  against  foreigners  ?  If  it  may  put  to 
death  a  crew  of  pirates,  why  not  a  hostile  fleet  bent  on  the  same 
deeds  of  plunder  and  blood  ?  If  it  may  execute  a  gang  of  ten 
robbers,  why  not  destroy  an  army  of  ten  thousand  marauders  from 
another  nation?  If  it  may  suppress  a  mob  or  an  insurrection  with 
bullets  and  bayonets,  why  not  employ  the  same  means  to  repel  an 
invading  army  commissioned  to  butcher,  and  burn,  and  ravage  ? 
Does  the  distinction  between  a  citizen  and  a  foreigner,  between  a 
mob  and  an  army,  each  committing  or  threatening  the  same  out- 
rages, make  any  real  difierence  ?  If  it  does,  ought  we  not  to  spare 
the  domestic  rather  than  the  foreign  offender?' 

Here  is  the  difficulty  in  all  its  force  ;  and  I  meet  it  at  once  by 
saymg,  Gorf  permits  the  taking  of  life  in  one  case,  bid  not  in  the  other. 
He  authorizes  rulers  to  govern,  but  not  to  fight;  to  punish,  but  not 
to  quarrel.  Such  acts,  even  if  they  were  physically  the  same, 
would  be  morally  different ;  and  hence  one  may  be  permitted, 
while  the  other  is  forbidden.  Such  I  take  to  be  the  fact ;  for  God 
allows  government,  as  I  have  shown,  to  punish  Us  oum  subjects  at 


429  PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT.  flf^ 

discretion,  and  to  use  all  the  force  necessary  to  insure  their  obe- 
dience, but  gives  no  government  the  right  to  wage  war  with  an- 
other government,  or  to  take  the  life  of  any  persons  not  under  its 
own  jurisdiction.  It  has  the  power  of  life  and  death  over  its  own 
•citizens,  but  not  over  those  of  any  other  country.  If  they  come  as 
individuals  within  its  limits,  they  become,  while  there,  subject  to 
iti?  authority,  amenable  to  its  laws,  and  liable  to  its  penalties. 
They  are  temporary  citizens,  and  must  for  the  time  be  treated  as 
such.  They  are  only  private  persons,  not  the  avowed  and  recog- 
nized representatives  of  another  government ;  and  the  treatment 
due  to  them  as  individuals,  determines  nothing  in  respect  to  the 
mutual  rights  and  obligations  of  the  two  governments.  These 
stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  moral  agents  subject  to  the 
general  principles  of  the  gospel ;  and  hence  the  pacific  precepts  I 
have  quoted  as  applicable  to  the  intercourse  of  individuals,  apply 
with  equal  force  to  governments  in  their  intercourse,  unless  an 
exception  is  expressly  made  in  favor  of  the  latter.  No  such  ex- 
ception can  I  find  in  the  New  Testament,  and  thus  am  forced  to 
the  conclusion,  that  governments  are  no  more  at  liberty  than  indi- 
viduals, to  fight  each  other  in  any  case. 

On  this  point  the  burden  of  proof  lies  with  the  advocates  of  war. 
The  deeds  of  violence  and  blood  inseparable  from  every  kind  of 
warfare,  are  confessedly  contrary  to  those  precepts  of  the  gospel 
which  require  us  not  to  resist  evil,  but  overcome  it  with  good ;  to 
do  good  unto  all  men ;  to  love,  forgive  and  bless  even  our  ene- 
mies ;  and,  unless  you  can  bring  from  the  New  Testament  some 
passage  which  clearly  permits  what  is  so  plainly  forbidden  in  such 
precepts  as  these,  we  have  no  more  right  to  kill  an  army  of  inva- 
ders in  self-defence,  than  we  have  to  renounce  our  religion,  and 
turn  Mohammedans  or  Pagans,  for  the  preservation  of  liberty  and 
life.  No  form  of  idolatry  is  more  explicitly  forbidden  than  are  such 
deeds  of  vengeance ;  and,  if  you  can  get  no  exception  in  their 
favor  from  God  himself,  the  prohibition  remains  in  all  its  force, 
and  binds  us  to  obey,  and  abide  the  consequences. 

Such  an  exception  cannot  be  found  in  the  New  Testament;  but 
do  you  still  insist  that  it  is  implied  in  the  admitted  right  of  govern- 
ment to  take  the  life  of  its  own  subjects  ?  I  deny  the  implication, 
and  demand  the  proof.  Can  you  find  it  in  any  passage  which  gives 
to  government  its  power  over  its  own  subjects  ?  The  thirteenth 
chapter  of  Romans,  almost  the  only  reliance  for  such  a  purpose, 
contains  not  a  word  to  justify  the  inference,  that  one  government 
may  at  will  butcher  the  subjects  of  another  for  any  purpose  what- 
.  ever.  It  was  written,  not  to  define  the  powers  of  government,  but 
to  inculcate  submission  to  government,  even  though  administered 
by  Nero  himself,  then  on  the  throne.  Such  was  the  chief,  if  not 
the  sole  design  of  Paul;  and  the  powers  of  government  as  "the 
minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath,"  are  but  incidentally 
recognized  merely  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing  the  duty  of  implicit 
subjection.  Paul  here  makes  not  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  in-, 
tercourse  of  one  government  with  another. 

But  do  you  aver  that  the  very  idea  of  a  government  with  diacre- 


6  PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT.  430 

lionary  penalties,  or  the  admission  of  its  right  to  coerce  its  own 
subjecis  at  pleasure,  covers  the  whole  ground  of  defensive  war  ?  So 
reason  all  apologists  for  this  custom ;  but  the  assumption  overlooks 
the  fundamental  principle,  that  our  duties  spring  from  our  relations, 
and  involves  the  absurd  dogma,  that  individuals  when  alone  have 
the  same  rights,  and  lie  under  the  same  obligations,  as  when  mem- 
bers of  a  social  organization.  Such  an  organization,  giving  rise  to 
new  relations,  creates  corresponding  rights  and  duties.  Has  a 
man  no  more  right  to  the  person  of  his  wife,  or  the  service  of  his 
child,  than  he  has  to  any  woman  or  child  he  meets  in  the  street? 
Docs  he,  on  becoming  a  father  or  a  husband,  a  teacher  or  a  ruler, 
acquire  no  new  rights,  and  assume  no  additional  responsibilities? 
Is  he  required  or  permitted,  as  an  isolated  individual,  to  do  what 
he  may  and  should  do  in  relations  like  these  ?  Such  questions  an- 
swer themselves,  and  disclose  a  very  essential  difference  between 
a  government  taking  in  a  legal  way  the  life  of  its  own  subjects  aa 
a  penalty  fo"r  crime,  and  the  same  government  killing  without  any 
form  of  trial,  or  the  least  pretension  to  individual  justice,  an  army 
of  invaders  from  another  country.  They  act  not  for  themselves, 
but  for  their  rulers ;  and,  if  taken  as  prisoners,  not  one  of  them 
could  be  tried  for  murder.  Their  government  alone  is  responsible ; 
ours  has  no  jurisdiction  in  the  case  ;  and  the  laws  of  war  discard 
the  idea  of  their  being  held  to  any  responsibility  as  individuals. 

Let  us  trace  the  limits  of  authority  and  obligation.  I  see  a  man 
committing  theft  or  murder  ;  but  am  I  bound  or  permitted  to  pun- 
ish him  ?  I  should  be  if  I  were  the  government,  or  an  officer  in- 
vested with  the  requisite  power  ;  but  am  I  as  an  individual  ?  A 
teacher  may  see  in  the  street  scores  of  mischievous  boys ;  but  does 
his  right  to  govern  his  school,  involve  the  right  to  punish  these 
foreigners  even  when  acting  worse  than  any  of  his  own  pupils  ? — 
*  Certainly  not;  but  he  would  have  a  right  to  restrain  them  even 
by  violence,  if  they  invaded  his  school.'  True,  he  would,  if  the 
civil  government  gave  him  the  right ;  and  so  would  a  nation  be  at 
liberty  to  destroy  their  invaders,  i/GoD  permitted  it ;  but,  since  he 
has  given  no  such  permission,  I  contend  that  it  is  not  involved  in 
the  right  of  a  government  to  coerce  its  own  subjects.  The  cases 
are  so  distinct,  that  you  cannot  argue  from  one  to  the  other.  The 
point  just  now  in  dispute  is,  not  whether  government  has  the  right 
of  war  from  any  source,  but  whether  such  a  right  is  implied  in  that 
of  controlling  its  own  subjects.  Because  a  parent  may  punish  his 
own  children,  does  it  follow  that  he  may  punish  his  neighbor'o 
children  ? — '  But  what  if  they  trespass  upon  his  premises  ? '  Then 
he  may  restrain  them  by  force,  and  even  punish  them,  if  the  law 
allows  it,  just  as  a  government  may  resist  unto  death  an  army  of 
invaders,  if  Gob  allows  it ;  but,  if  he  does  not,  the  right  to  do  so 
cannot  be  found  in  any  power  it  has  over  its  own  subjects.  Be- 
cause the  head  of  every  family  in  a  neighborhood  may  and  should 
govern  his  own  children,  you  surely  would  not  infer  the  right  of 
these  families  to  fight  one  another ;  yet  from  the  conceded  right 
of  a  government  to  restrain  and  punish  its  own  subjects,  you  argue 
its  authority  to  wage  war  against  other  governments ! 


431  PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT.  ^ 

But  are  you  unable  to  understand  why  God  should  maKe  such  a 
difference  ?  Be  it  so ;  still  our  ignorance  of  the  reasons  cannot 
alter  the  fact,  nor  absolve  us  from  the  duty  of  acquiescing  in  such 
clear  expressions  of  his  will  as  he  has  given  in  the  pacific  precepts 
of  liis  gospel.  Abraham  may  have  seen  a  variety  of  very  cogent 
reasons  why  he  should  not  slay  his  son ;  yet  were  they  all  over- 
ruled by  the  simple  fact  of  God's  requiring  the  strange  sacrifice. 
We  have  no  right  to  ask  his  reasons.  If  he  gives  them,  it  is  well; 
but,  if  not,  we  should  still  submit  without  a  murmur  or  a  doubt; 
and,  if  he  has  given  precepts  which  condemn  all  the  moral  ingre- 
dients of  war,  nor  made  any  exceptions  which  exempt  nations  in 
their  intercourse  with  each  other  from  obligation  to  obey  them, 
then  no  ignorance,  no  doubts,  no  difficulties  on  our  part,  can  ex- 
cuse us  from  taking  those  precepts  as  the  rule  of  our  duty. 

But,  however  unable  to  discover  all  the  reasons  for  such  a  diflTer- 
ence,  I  find  enough  fdr  my  own  satisfaction.  I  see  them  in  the 
relation  between  rulers  and  subjects  ; — in  the  very  ends  of  civil 
government ; — in  its  legitimate,  well  defined  powers  ; — in  the  ne- 
cessity of  their  faithful  exercise  to  the  welfare  of  society ; — in  their 
"wise  and  obvious  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  mankind ; — in  the 
possibility  of  thus  insuring  justice,  safety  and  happiness  to  the 
community,  without  the  evils  inseparable  from  the  conflict  of  na- 
tions. None  of  these  reasons  apply  to  war.  I  find  no  license  from 
a  God  of  peace  for  its  atrocities  and  horrors.  No  relation  between 
one  government  and  another,  gives  either  a  right  to  kill  or  coerce 
the  subjects  of  the  other.  Nor  is  war  a  sure  or  a  safe  remedy  for 
the  evils  incident  to  the  intercourse  of  nations.  It  gives  no  assu- 
rance of  justice,  and  contains  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to  a 
judicial  process.  There  is  no  common  code  or  tribunal,  no  form 
of  trial,  no  charges  duly  tabled,  no  witnesses  fairly  confronted,  no 
common  judge  or  jury,  no  power  above  them  both  to  punish  the 
criminal,  not  a  solitary  element  essential  to  a  process  of  justice. 
One  person  offends,  and  a  whole  nation  is  doomed  to  vengeance. 
Each  party  makes  its -own  law  in  the  case,  and  acts  as  accuser  and 
■witness,  as  judge,  jury  and  executioner.  This  a  judicial  process, 
a  method  of  justice  ?     No  more  than  a  rencounter  between  tigers. 

Do  you  still  insist,  however,  that  government,  appointed  for  the 
protection  of  its  subjects,  is  even  required,  if  necessary  for  this 
purpose^  to  wage  war  against  invaders  ?  There  are  better  means 
for  this  than  the  sword ;  and,  if  government  did  its  whole  duty, 
there  would  be  no  need  of  appealing  to  arms  for  the  defence  of 
its  subjects.  I  grant  that  it  may  and  should  protect  them  as  far 
as  it  can  without  violating  the  commands  of  God ;  but  it  has  no 
right,  for  this  or  any  other  purpose,  to  contravene  his  revealed  will. 
The  question  here  is  not  whether  government  shall  defend  its  own 
subjects  by  -proper^  Christian  means,  but  whether  it  may  for  this 
end  perpetrate  all  the  enormities  of  war.  May  it  reverse  or  sus- 
pend the  whole  Decalogue,  and  trample  under  foot  Christ's  sermon 
on  the  mount,  and  the  plainest  teachings  of  his  Apostles  ?  Does 
God  authorize  government  to  do  such  things  ?  If  not,  then  no  plea 
of  protection  can  justify  war  in  any  case. 


8  PEACE    AND    GOVERNMENT.  432 

Here,  then,  is  the  sum  of  my  argfunaent.    The  precepts  of  the 

fospel  forbid  what  is  essential  alike  to  war  and  to  government ; 
lit  the  penal  and  coercive  measures  of  tlie  latter,  being  clearly 
permitted  by  God  himself  as  exceptions,  are  admissible  on  the  same 
principle  with  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac,  and  the  penal  enactments  of 
the  Jewish  code,  though  each  contrary  to  the  letter  of  the  sixth 
commandment ;  while  war,  not  being  thus  permitted,  remains  in 
every  one  of  its  forms  under  the  full  force  of  those  precepts  which 
condemn  all  its  moral  elements,  and  require  the  opposite  virtues 
of  love,  forgiveness  and  universal  beneficence.  Thus  may  we 
discard  all  war,  and  still  believe  in  the  right  of  government,  if 
necessary,  to  hang  the  murderer,  and  employ  force  to  arrest  pirates, 
and  to  suppress  mobs,  riots  and  insurrections. 

These  views  are  obviously  the  reverse  of  non-government  It  is 
one  thing  for  a  father  to  rule  his  family,  and  quite  a  different  thing 
for  that  family  to  fight  another ;  one  thing  to  say  that  a  parent  may 
not  forcibly  resist  the  wrong  doing  of  his  child,  and  another  to 
hold  that  the  child  must  never  thus  resist  the  authority  of  his  pa- 
rent ;  one  thing  to  deny  the  right  of  government  to  punish  or 
coerce  its  subjects,  and  a  very  different  thing  to  insist  that  subjects 
shall  never  oppose  force  to  their  government.  The  former  I  dis- 
card, the  latter  I  fully  believe  ;  and  while  one  leaves  to  govern- 
ment no  power  but  that  of  moral  suasion,  the  other  obviously  makes 
it  stronger  and  perfectly  secure.  By  teaching  that  children  may 
never  resist  their  parents,  should  I  cut  the  sinews  of  parental  au- 
thority ?  By  denying  the  right  of  forcible  resistance  in  any  case  to 
civil  government,  should  I  strip  the  magistrate  of  all  power  ? 
Could  such  a  doctrine  lead  to  treason,  to  insurrection,  to  rebellion  ? 
Did  our  revolutionary  fathers  preach  it  ?  Was  it  ever  a  watch- 
word with  rebels  or  mobocrats  ?  The  objector  shoots  at  the  wrong 
target ;  he  should  change  his  ground,  and  accuse  us,  not  of  weak° 
ening  government,  but  of  arming  it  with  too  much  power. 

After  all,  however,  what  danger  can  ensue  from  peace  ?  Sup- 
pose war  brought  every  where  to  a  perpetual  end,  can  the  wildest 
dreamer  imagine,  that  such  a  result  would  crush  or  paralyze  all 
government,  and  flood  the  world  with  anarchy,  violence  and  crime  ? 
Impossible ;  peace  is  the  nurse  of  every  virtue,  the  medium  of 
nearly  all  our  blessings ;  and,  if  we  would  insure  happiness  to 
individuals,  prosperity  to  nations,  and  the  greatest  possible  amount 
of  good  to  the  whole  world,  we  surely  ought  to  labor  for  universal 
and  permanent  peace. 


P.  S. — ^I  am  well  aware  that  there  are  other  ways  of  reconciling 
with  civil  government  the  belief  of  all  war  contrary  to  the  gospel, 
nor  would  I  disparage  any  of  them  ;  but  I  state  my  own  method, 
and  leave  others  to  explain  and  vindicate  theirs.  The  cause  of 
peace  is  not  fairly  responsible  for  the  modes  of  reasoning  adopted 
on  this  point ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  government  question, 
but  permits  its  friends  to  treat  the  subject  each  in  his  own  way. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


I 


m 

'  No.  I.. 

CRIMINALITY    OF   WAR. 

BY   HOWARD   MALCOM,   D.  D., 

PRESIDENT   OF   GEORGETOWN   COLLEGE,   KY. 

That  man  is  a  fallen  and  depraved  creature,  is  every  where 
apparent  in  the  ferocious  dispositions  of  his  nature.  Hence,  to 
speak  of  him  as  in  "  a  state  of  nature,"  has  been  to  speak  of  him 
as  "  a  savage."  A  savage  finds  in  war  and  bloodshed  his  only 
means  of  honor  and  fame,  and  he  becomes,  both  in  the  chase  and 
the  camp,  a  beast  of  prey. 

In  proportion  as  war  prevails  among  civilized  nations,  it  banishes 
whatever  tends  to  refine  and  elevate,  suspends  the  pursuits  of  in- 
dustry, destroys  the  works  of  art,  and  sets  them  back  towards  bar- 
barism. Wherever  it  comes,  cities  smoke  in  ruins,  and  fields  are 
trodden  under  foot.  The  husband  is  torn  from  his  wife,  the  father 
from  his  children,  the  aged  lose  their  prop,  and  woman  is  consigned 
to  unwonted  toils  and  perpetual  alarms.  As  it  passes,  the  halls  of 
science  grow  lonely,  improvements  pause,  benevolence  is  fettered, 
violence  supercedes  law,  and  even  the  sanctuary  of  God  is  de- 
serted, or  becomes  a  manger,  a  hospital,  or  a  fortress.  In  its  actual 
encounters,  every  movement  is  immeasurably  horrid,  with  wounds, 
anguish,  and  death ;  while  amid  the  din  of  wrath  and  strife,  a 
stream  of  immortal  souls  is  hurried,  unprepared,  to  their  final  audit. 

That  tyrants  should  lead  men  into  wars  of  pride  and  conquest,  is 
not  strange.  But  that  the  people,  in  governments  comparatively 
free,  should  so  readily  lend  themselves  to  a  business  in  which  they 
bear  all  the  sufferings,  can  gain  nothing,  and  may  lose  all,  is  mat- 
ter of  astonishment  indeed. 

But  the  chief  wonder  is  that  Christians,  followers  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace,  should  have  concurred  in  this  mad  idolatry  of  strife,  and 
thus  been  inconsistent  not  only  with  themselves,  but  with  the  very 
genius  of  their  system.  Behold  a  man  going  from  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per, fantastically  robed  and  plumed,  drilling  himself  into  skilful 
modes  of  butchery,  and  studying  ,the  tactics  of  death !  Behold 
him  murdering  his  fellow  Christians,  ^nd  praying  to-  his  Divine 
Master  for  success  in  the  endeavor !  Behold  processions  march- 
ing to  the  house  of  God  to  celebrate  bloody  victories,  and  give  thanks 
for  having  been  able  to  send  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  to 
their  last  account  with  all  their  sins  upon  their  heads !  Stupen- 
dous inconsistency ! 

Surely  this  matter  should  remain  no  longer  unexamined.  It 
*cannot.  In  this  age  of  light,  when  every  form  of  vice  and  error 
is  discussed  and  resisted,  this  great  evil,  the  prolific  parent  of  un- 
numbered abominations,  must  be  attacked  also.  Christians  are 
waking  up  to  see  and  do  their  duty  to  one  another,  to  their  neigh 

p.  T.      NO,  L. 


2  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  484 

bore,  and  to  the  distant  heathen.  They  caniiot  continue  to  over- 
look war.  I  persuade  myself  that  there  are  few,  even  now,  who 
object  to  its  being  discussed. 

I  propose  not  to  discuss  the  whole  subject  of  war; — a  vast  theme. 
I  shall  abstain  from  presenting  it  in  the  light  of  philosophy,  poli- 
tics, or  patriotism ;  in  each  of  which  points  of  light  I  have  studied 
it,  and  feel  that  it  demands  most  serious  attention.  In  the  follow- 
ing observations,  war  will  be  discussed  only  as  it  concerns  a 
Christian. 

Happily,  there  are  few  who  would  oppose  the  prevalence  and 
perpetuity  of  peace.  The  need  of  discussion  lies  not  in  the  blood- 
thirsty character  of  our  countrymen,  nor  in  the  existence  of  active 
efforts  to  propagate  and  prolong  the  miseries  of  war ;  but  in  the 
apathy  that  prevails  on  this  subject,  and  the  almost  total  want  of 
reflection  in  regard  to  it  A  military  spirit  is  so  wrought  into  the 
habits  of  national  thinking,  and  into  all  our  patriotic  pomps  and 
festivals,  that  the  occasional  occurrence  of  war  is  deemed  a  matter 
of  course.  Even  the  fervent  friends  of  man's  highest  welfare  seem 
to  regard  a  general  pacification  of  the  world,  and  the  disuse  of 
fleets  and  armies,  as  a  mere  Utopian  scheme,  and  chose  to  give 
their  money  and  prayers  to  objects  which  seem  of  more  probable 
attainment  This  apathy  and  incredulity  are  to  be  overcome  only 
by  discussion. 

The  following  observations  will  be  confined  to  two  points. 
I.  War  is  criminal  because  inconsistent  loith  Christianity. 
IT.  This  criminality  is  enormous. 

I.  Its  inconsistenct  with  Christianity. 

1.  It  contradicts  the  entire  genius  and  intention  of  Christianity. 

Christianity  requires  us  to  seek  to  amend  the  condition  of  man. 
War  always  <ieteriorates  and  destroys.  The  world  is  at  this  mo- 
ment not  one  whit  better,  in  any  respect,  for  all  the  wars  of  five 
thousand  years.  If  here  and  there  some  good  may  be  traced  to 
war,  the  amount  of  evil,  on  the  whole,  is  immeasurably  greater. 
Christianity,  if  it  prevailed,  would  make  earth  once  more  a  para- 
dise. War  makes  it  a  slaughter  house,  a  desert,  a  den  of  thieves 
and  murderers,  a  hell.  Christianity  cancels  and  condemns  the  law 
of  retaliation.  War  is  based  upon  that  very  principle.  Christian- 
ity remedies  all  human  woes.     War  makes  them. 

The  causes  of  war  are  as  inconsistent  with  Christianity  as  its 
effects.  It  originates  in  the  worst  passions,  and  the  worst  crimes, 
James  iv.,  1,  2.  We  may  always  trace  it  tp  the  thirst  of  revenge, 
the  acquisition  of  territory,  the  monopoly  of  commerce,  the  quar- 
rels of  kings,  the  coercion  of  religious  opinions,  or  some  such  uu; 
holy  source.  There  never  was  a  war,  devised  by  man,  founded  on 
holy  tempers,  and  Christian  principles. 

All  the  features,  all  the  concomitants,  all  the  results  of  war, 
are  opposed  to  the  features,  the  concomitants,  the  results  of  Chris- 


435  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR,.  3 

tianity.     The  two  systems  conflict  in  every  point,  irreconcilably 
and  forever. 

2.  War  sets  at  naught  tJie  entire  example  of  Jesus. 

"  Learn  of  me,"  says  the  Divine  Examplar.  And  can  we  learn 
fighting  from  him  7  His  conduct  was  always  pacific.  He  became 
invisible  when  the  Nazarites  sought  to  cast  him  from  their  preci- 
pice. The  troops  that  came  to  arrest  him  in  the  garden,  he  struck 
down,  but  not  dead.  His  constant  declaration  was,  that  he  "  came 
not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save." 

True,  he  once  instructed  his  disciples  to  buy  swor^,  telling  them 
that  they  were  going  forth  as  sheep  among  wolves.  But  the  whole 
passage  shows  he  was  speaking  by  parable,  as  he  generally  did. 
The  disciples  answered,  "  here  are  two  swords."  He  instantly  re- 
plies, "  it  is  enough."  If  he  had  spoken  literally,  how  could  two 
swords  suffice  for  twelve  Apostles  ?  Nay,  when  Peter  used  one  of 
these,  it  was  too  much,  Christ  reproved  him,  and  healed  the 
wound.  He  meant  to  teach  them  their  danger,  not  their  refuge. 
His  metaphor  was  misunderstood,  just  as  it  was  when  he  said, 
"  beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees,"  and  they  thought  he 
meant  bread. 

Once  he  drove  men  from  the  temple.  But  it  was  with  "  a  whip 
of  small  cords."  Moral  influence  drove  them.  A  crowd  of  such 
fellows  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  one  man  with  a  whip.  He  ex- 
pressly declared  that  his  servants  should  not  fight,  for  his  kingdom 
was  not  of  this  world.  His  whole  life  was  the  sublime  personifi- 
cation of  benevolence.     He  was  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

Do  we  forget  that  Christ  is  our  example  ?  Whatever  is  right 
for  us  to  do,  would  in  general  have  been  right  for  him  to  do.  Im- 
agine the  Savior  robed  in  the  trappings  of  a  man  of  blood,  leading 
columns  to  slaughter,  setting  fire  to  cities,  laying  waste  the  coun- 
try, storming  fortresses,  and  consigning  thousands  to  wounds,  an- 
guish and  death,  just  to  define  a  boundary,  settle  a  point  of  policy, 
or  decide  some  kingly  quarrel.  Could  "  meekness  and  lowliness 
of  heart "  be  learned  from  him  thus  engaged  ? 

There  is  no  rank  or  station  in  an  army  that  would  become  the 
character  of  Christ.  Nor  can  any  man  who  makes  arms  a  profes- 
sion find  a  pattern  in  Christ  our  Lord.  But  he  ought  to  be  every 
man's  pattern. 

I  need  not  enlarge  on  this  point.  It  is  conceded ;  for  no  war- 
rior thinks  of  making  Christ  his  pattern.  How  then  can  a  genuine 
imitator  of  Christ,  consistently  be  a  warrior  ? 

3.  War  is  inconsistent  not  only  with  tlw  nature  of  Christianity^       y 
and  the  example  of  Jesus,  hut  it  violates  all  the  express  pre 
CEPTS  of  Scripture. 

Even  the  Old  Testament  does  not  sanction  war  as  a  custom. 
In  each  case,  there  mentioned,  of  lawful  war,  it  was  entered  upon 
by  the  express  command  of  God.  If  su^h  authority  were  now  given, 
we  might  worthily  resort  to  arms.     But  without  such  authority, 


4  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  436 

how  dare  we  violate  the  genius  of  Christianity,  and  set  at  naught 
the  example  of  Christ  ?  The  wars  sanctioned  in  olden  times 
were  not  appointed  to  decide  doubtful  questions,  or  to  settle  quar- 
rels. They  were  to  inflict  national  punishment,  and  were  intended, 
as  are  pestilence  and  famine,  to  chastise  guilty  nations. 

As  to  the  New  Testament,  a  multitude  of  its  precepts  might  be 
quoted,  expressly  against  all  fighting.  "  Ye  have  heard,  &,c.,  an 
eye  for  an  eye,  but  1  say  unto  you  resist  not  evil."  "  Follow  peace 
witli  all  men."  "  Love  one  another."  "Do  justice,  love  mercy." 
"Love  your  enemies."  "Follow  righteousness,  faith,  charity, 
peace."  "  Return  good  for  evil."  "  Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath, 
and  anger,  and  clamor,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from  you, 
and  be  ye  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one 
another,  even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven  you."  "  If 
my  kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  my  servants  fight," 
etc.  "  If  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  neither,"  &.c.  "  Be 
ye  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good."  "  If  thine 
enemy  hunger,  feed  him,  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink."  "  Render 
not  evil  for  evil,  but  contrariwise  blessing."  Such  passages 
might  be  indefinitely  multiplied.  They  abound  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament How  shall  they  be  disposed  of?  No  interpretation  can 
nullify  their  force,  or  change  their  application.  Take  any  sense 
the  words  will  bear,  and  they  forbfd  war.  They  especially  forbid 
retaliation,  which  is  always  advanced  as  the  best  pretext  for  war. 

Such  texts  as  have  been  just  quoted,  relate  to  the  single  matter 
of  retaliation  and  fighting.  But  belligerant  nations  violate  every 
precept  of  the  gospel.  It  enjoins  every  man  to  be  meek,  lowly, 
peaceable,  easy  to  be  entreated,  gentle,  thinking  no  evil,  merciful, 
slow  to  anger,  quiet,  studious,  patient,  temperate,  &c.  Let  a  man 
rehearse,  one  by  one,  the  whole  catalogue  of  Christian  graces,  and 
he  will  see  that  war  repudiates  them  all. 

Examine  that  superlative  epitome  of  Christianity,  our  Lord's 
sermon  on  the  mount.  Its  nine  benedictions  are  upon  so  many 
classes  of  persons ;  the  poor  in  spirit,  mourners,  the  meek,  the 
merciful,  the  peace-makers,  the  persecuted,  the  reviled,  those  who 
hunger  after  righteousness,  and  the  pure  in  heart  In  which  of 
these  classes  can  the  professed  warrior  place  himself?  Alas,  he 
shuts  himself  out  from  all  the  benedictions  of  heaven. 

,  The  discourse  proceeds  to  teach,  that  not  only  killing,  but  an- 
ger is  murder.  It  expressly  rebukes  the  law  of  retaliation  ;  and 
exploding  the  traditionary  rule  of  loving  our  neighbor,  and  hating 
our  enemy,  it  requires  us  to  love  our  enemies,  and  do  good  to  those 
that  despitefuUy  use  us.  Afterward,  in  presenting  a  form  of 
prayer,  it  not  only  teaches  us  to  say,  "  Forgive  our  trespasses  aa 
we  forgive  those  that  trespass  against  us,"  but  adds,  "  If  ye  for- 
give not  men  their  trespasses,  neither  wift  your  Heavenly  Fatlier 
forgive  you."  What  a  peace  sermon  is  here!  What  modern 
peace  society  goes  further,  or  could  be  more  explicit  ? 

But  let  U3  take  a  few  of  the  Christian  graces  more  in  detail 
The  Christian  is  required  to  cherish  a  sense  of  direct  and  supreme 


•437  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  5 

responsibility  to  God.  The  irresponsible  feelings  of  a  soldier  are 
a  necessary  part  of  his  profession,  as  Lord  Wellington  said  re- 
cently, '  A  man  who  has  a  nice  sense  of  religion,  should  not  be  a 
soldier.'  The  soldier  makes  war  a  profession,  and  must  be 
ready  to  fight  any  nation,  or  any  part  of  his  own  nation,  as  he  is 
ordered.  He  must  have  no  mind  of  his  own.  He  must  march, 
wheel,  load,  fire,  charge,  or  retreat,  as  he  is  bidden,  and  because 
he  is  bidden.  In  the  language  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  "The 
breaking  of  men  to  military  discipline,  is  breaking  their  spirits  to 
principles  of  passive  obedience."  *  The  nearer  a  soldier  comes  to 
a  mere  machine,  the  better  soldier  he  makes.  Is  this  right  for  a 
Christian  ?  Is  it  compatible  with  his  duty  to  "  examine  all  things, 
and  hold  fast  that  which  is  good  ?  " 

The  contempt  of  life  v/hich  is  so  necessary  in  a  soldier,  is  a 
great  sin.  He  must  walk  up  to  the  deadly  breach,  and  maintain 
his  ground  before  the  cannon's  mouth.  But  life  is  inestimable, 
and  belongs  to  God.  He  who  masters  the  fear  of  death,  does  it 
either  by  religious  influence,  or  quenching  the  fear  of  God,  and  all 
concern  about  a  future  state.  There  is  not  a  gospel  precept, 
which  he  who  makes  arms  a  profession,  is  not  at  times  compelled 
to  violate. 

Nor  is  there  a  Christian  grace  which  does  not  tend  to  diminish 
the  value  of  a  professed  soldier.  Some  graces  are,  it  is  true,  use- 
ful in  camp ;  where  a  man  may  be  called  to  act  as  a  servant,  or 
laborer.  It  is  then  desirable  that  he  be  honest,  meek,  faithful, 
that  he  may  properly  attend  to  a  horse,  or  a  wardrobe.  But  such 
qualities  spoil  him  for  the  field.  He  must  there  cast  away  meek- 
ness, and  fight ;  he  must  cast  away  honesty,  and  forage  ;  he  must 
cast  away  forgiveness,  and  revenge  his  country ;  he  must  not  re- 
turn good  for  evil,  but  two  blows  for  one. 

Survey  an  army  prepared  for  battle  ;  see  a  throng,  busy  with 
cannons,  muskets,  mortars,  swords,  drums,  trumpets,  and  banners. 
Do  these  men  look  like  Christians  ?  Do  they  talk  like  followers 
of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  ?  Do  they  act  like  friends  and  bene- 
factors of  the  whole^ human  race?  Are  the  lessons  they  learn  in 
daily  drill,  such  as  will  help  them  in  a  life  of  faith  ? 

Mark  this  army  in  the  hour  of  battle.  See  attacks  and  retreats, 
battalions  annihilated,  commanders  falling,  shouts  of  onset,  groans 
of  death,  horses  trampling  the  fallen,  limbs  flying  in  the  air,  suf- 
focating smoke,  and  thousands  smarting  in  the  agony  of  death, 
without  a  cup  of  water  to  quench  their  intolerable  thirst !  Do  the 
principles  of  Christianity  authorize  such  a  scene  ?  Are  such  hor- 
rors its  fruits  ? 

Inspect  the  field  when  all  is  over.  The  fair  harvest  trampled 
and  destroyed,  houses  and  batteries  smoking  in  ruin,  the  mangled 
and  suffering  strewed  among  dead  comrades,  and  dead  horses,  and 
broken  gun-carriages.  Prowlers  strip  the  booty  even  fi^om  the 
warm  bodies  of  the  dying,  jackals  howl  around,  and  disgusting 

*  See  Letter  to  John  Jay,  May  23, 1788. 


% 

I 


0  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  438 

birds  are  wheeling  in  the  air ;  while  the  miserable  wife  seeks  her 
loved  one  among  the  general  carnage.  Does  all  this  look  as  if 
Christians  had  been  there,  serving  the  God  of  mercy  ?  Could  such 
works  grow  out  of  the  system,  heralded  as  bringing  "  Ptacjt  on 

Turn  your  eyes  to  the  ocean.  A  huge  ship,  bristling  with  im- 
plements of  death,  glides  quietly  along.  Presently  "  a  sail ! "  is 
csJled  from  sentmel  to  sentinel.  All  on  board  catch  the  sound, 
and  gaze  on  the  dim  ;ind  distant  outline.  At  length  she  is  dis- 
covered to  be  a  ship  of  war,  and  all  strain  their  eyes  to  see  her 
flag.  On  that  little  token  hangs  the  important  issue ;  for  no  feud, 
no  jealousy  exists  between  the  crews.  They  do  not  even  know 
each  other.  At  length  the  signal  is  discerned  to  be  that  of  a  foe. 
Immediately  what  a  scene  ensues !  Decks  cleared  and  sanded, 
ports  opened,  guns  run  out,  matches  lighted,  and  every  prepara- 
tion made  for  bloody  work.  While  waiting  for  the  moment  to 
engage,  the  worst  passions  of  the  men  are  appealed  to  to  make 
them  fight  with  fury ;  and  they  are  inspired  with  all  possible  pride, 
hatred,  revenge  or  ambition. 

The  fight  begins !  Death  flies  with  every  shot  Blood  and 
carnage  cover  the  decks.  The  rigging  is  cut  to  pieces ;  the  hull 
bored  with  hot  shot.  The  smoke,  the  confusion,  the  orders  of 
officers,  the  yells  of  the  wounded,  the  crash  of  timbers,  the  horrors 
of  the  cockpit,  make  a  scene  at  which  infernal  fiends  feel  their 
malignity  sated.  At  length  one  party  strikes,  and  the  strife  is 
stayed-  The  conquered  ship,  ere  her  wounded  can  be  removed, 
sinks  into  the  deep.  The  victor,  herself  almost  a  wreck,  throws 
overboard  the  slain,  washes  her  decks,  and  turns  toward  her  port, 
carrying  the  crippled,  the  agonized,  and  the  dying  of  both  ships ! 
What  anguish  is  there  in  that  ship !  What  empty  berths,  late 
filled  with  the  gay -hearted  and  the  profane  !  What  tidings  does 
she  carry,  to  spread  lamentation  and  misery  over  hundreds  of  fam- 
ilies ! 

Yet  in  all  this,  there  was  no  personal  feud  or  malice,  no  private 
wrong  or  offence.  All  was  the  mere  result  of  some  cabinet 
council,  some  kingly  caprice.  Could  any  enormity  be  more  cold- 
blooded and  diabolical  ? 

But  no  where  does  war  wear  such  horrors  as  in  a  siege.  The 
inhabitants  are  shut  up ;  business,  pleasure,  education,  intercourse 
are  all  checked ;  sorrow,  terror,  and  distress  prevail.  Bombs  fall 
and  explode  in  the  streets  ;  citizens  are  killed  in  their  houses,  and 
soldiers  on  the  ramparts.  Women  and  children  retreat  to  the  cel- 
lars, and  live  there  cold,  dark,  comfortless,  terrified.  Day  after  day, 
and  month  after  month,  roll  tediously  on,  while  the  gloom  con- 
stantly thickens,  and  the  only  news  is  of  houses  crushed,  acquain- 
tance killed,  prices  raised,  and  scarcity  increased.  Gladly  would 
the  citizens  surrender,  but  the  governor  is  inexorable.  At  length, 
to  all  the  horrors /amtn«  is  added.  The  poor  man,  out  of  employ, 
cannot  purchase  customary  comforts  at  the  increased  prices.  His 
poverty  becomes  deeper,  his  sacrifices  greater.     But  the  siege 


439  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  ? 

continues.  The  middle  classes  sink  to  beggary,  tne  poorer  class 
-  to  starvation.  Anon,  breaches  are  made  in  the  wall ;  and  all  must 
work  amid  galling  fire  to  repair  them.  Mines  are  sprung,  blowing 
houses  and  occupants  into  the  air.  Still  no  relief  comes.  Dead 
animals,  ofFal,  skins,  the  very  carcass  of  the  slain,  are  eaten.  The 
lone  widow,  the  bereft  mother,  the  disappointed  bride,  the  despair- 
ing father,  and  the  tender  babe,  mourn  continually.  Then  comes 
pestilence,  the  necessary  consequence  of  unburied  dead,  and  un- 
wonted hardships,  and  intolerable  wo.  At  length,  the  city  yields; 
or  is  taken  by  storm,  and  scenes  even  more  horrid  ensue.  A  brutal 
soldiery  give  loose  to  lust,  and  rapine,  and  destruction ;  and  the 
indescribable  scene  closes  with  deserted  sti-eets,  general  ruin,  and 
lasting  lamentation.  ^ 

This  picture  is  far  from  being  overwrought.  The  history  of 
sieges  furnish  realities  of  deeper  horror.  Take  for  instance  the 
second  siege  of  Saragossa  in  1824,  or  almost  any  other. 

Now  is  this  Christianity  ?  Is  it  like  it  ?  Christianity  cannot 
alter.  If  it  will  necessarily  abolish  all  war,  when  the  millennium 
shall  give  it  universal  influence,  then  it  will  abolish  war  now,  so  far 
as  it  has  injiuence ;  and  every  man  who  receives  it  fully  will  be  a, 
man  of  peace.  If  religious  persons  may  make  fighting  a  trade  on 
earth,  they  may  fight  in  heaven.  If  we  may  lawfully  cherish  a 
war  spirit  here,  we  may  cherish  it  there  ! 

I  close  by  quoting  the  words  of  the  great  Jeremy  Taylor.  "  As 
contrary  as  cruelty  is  to  mercy,  and  tyranny  to  charity,  so  contrary 
is  war  to  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  the  Christian  religion." 

II.  War  is  one  of  the  most  awful  and  comprehensive 

FORMS    OF    WICKEDNESS. 

What  has  been  said,  has  gone  to  show  how  inconsistent,  in 
principle,  are  war  and  Christianity.  A  few  considerations  will  now 
be  offered,  illustrative  of  the  practices  of  war.  We  shall  be  thus 
led  to  see,  not  only  that  it  contradicts  the  genius,  and  violates  the 
precepts  of  Christianity,  but  that  it  does  so  in  the  most  gross  and 
gigantic  manner. 

1.  It  is  the  tvorstform  ofrohhery. 

Common  robberies  are  induced  by  want;  but  war  commits  them 
by  choice,  and  often  robs  only  to  ravage.  A  man  who  rushes  to  the 
highway  to  rob,  maddened  by  the  sight  of  a  famished  family,  may 
plead  powerful  temptation.  But  armies  rob,  burn,  and  destroy,  in 
the  coolest  malice.  See  a  file  of  men,  well  fed  and  well  clothed 
by  a  great  and  powerful  nation,  proceed  on  a  foraging  party.  They 
enter  a  retired  vale,  where  a  peaceful  old  man  by  hard  handed  toil 
supports  his  humble  family.  The  officer  coolly  points  with  his 
sword  to  the  few  stacks  of  hay  and  grain,  laid  up  for  winter. 
Remonstrances  are  vain — tears  are  vain.  They  bear  off"  his  only 
supply,  take  his  cow,  his  pet  lamb  ;  add  insult  to  oppression,  and 
leave  the  ruined  family  to  an  almshouse  or  starvation.    Ave,  but 


8  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  440 

the  poor  old  man  was  an  enemy,  as  the  war  phrase  is,  and  the 
haughty  soldiery  claim  merit  for  forbearance,  because  they  did  not 
conclude  with  burning  down  his  house. 

The  seizure  or  destruction  of  public  stores,  is  not  less  robbery. 
A  nation  has  no  more  right  to  steal  from  a  nation,  than  an  indi- 
vidual has  to  steal  from  an  individual.  In  principle,  the  act  is  the 
same ;  in  magnitude,  the  sin  is  greater.  All  the  private  robberies 
in  a  thousand  years,  are  not  a  tithe  of  the  robberies  of  one  war. 
Next  to  killing,  it  is  the  very  object  of  each  party  to  burn  and 
destroy  by  sea,  and  ravage  and  lay  waste  on  land.  It  is  a  malign 
and  inexcusable  barbarity,  and  constitutes  a  stupendous  mass  of 
theft. 

In  one  of  the  Punic  wars,  Carthage,  with  100,000  houses,  was 
burnt  and  destroyed,  so  that  not  a  house  remained.  The  plunder 
carried  away  by  the  Romans,  in  precious  metals  and  jewels  alone, 
is  reported  to  have  been  equal  to  five  millions  of  pounds  of  silver. 
Who  can  compute  the  number  of  similar  events,  from  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem  to  that  of  Moscow  ?  Arson,  that  is,  the  setting 
fire  to  an  inhabited  dwelling,  is,  in  most  countries,  punishable  by 
death.  But  more  of  this  has  been  done  in  some  single  wars,  than 
has  been  committed  privately,  since  the  world  began.  When 
some  villain  sets  fire  to  a  house  and  consumes  it,  what  public  in- 
dignation I  What  zeal  to  bring  to  justice  !  If,  for  a  succession 
of  nights,  buildings  are  fired,  what  general  panic !  Yet  how  small 
the  distress,  compared  to  that  which  follows  the  burning  of  an 
entire  city.  In  one  case,  the  houseless  still  find  shelter,  the  laborer 
obtains  work,  the  children  have  food.  But  oh,  the  horrors  of  a 
general  ruin !     Earthquake  is  no  worse. 

It  should  not  be  overlooked,  that  a  great  part  of  the  private  rob- 
beries in  Christendom,  may  be  traced  to  the  deterioration  of  morals, 
caused  by  war.  Thousands  of  pirates,  received  their  infamous 
education  in  national  ships.  Thousands  of  thieves,  were  disbanded 
soldiers.  War  taught  these  men  to  disregard  the  rights  of  pro- 
perty, to  trample  upon  justice,  and  refuse  mercy.  Even  if  disposed 
to  honest  labor,  which  a  military  life  always  tends  to  render  un- 
palatable, the  disbanded  soldier  often  finds  himself  unable  to  obtain 
employment.  The  industry  of  his  country  has  been  paralysed  by 
the  war ;  and  the  demand  for  labor  slowly  recurs.  The  discharged 
veteran  therefore  is  often  compelled  to  steal  or  starve. 

Tims  war,  by  its  own  operations,  involves  continual  and  stu- 
pendous thefts,  and  by  its  unavoidable  tendencies,  multiplies  offen- 
ders, who  in  time  of  peaCe  prey  upon  community. 

2.  It  involves  the  most  enormous  Sabbath  breaking. 

The  Sabbath  cannot  be  observed  by  armies.  Common  camp 
duty  forbids  it.  Extra  duties  are  generally  assigned  to  Sunday — 
such  as  parades,  drill,  inspections,  and  reviews.  Seldom  is  any 
effort  made  to  avoid  marcl^es,  or  even  battles,  on  Sunday.  I  have 
been  able  to  find,  in  all  history,  but  one  battle  postponed  on  account 


441  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  9 

of  the  Sabbath.  In  thousands  of  instances,  as  in  the  case  of 
Waterloo,  it  has  been  the  chosen  day  for  conflict. 

War  tends  to  abolish  the  Sabbath,  even  when  the  army  is  not 
present.  The  heavy  trains  of  the  commissary  must  move  on. 
The  arsenal  and  the  ship  yard  must  maintain  their  activity.  Innu- 
merable mechanics,  watermen,  and  laborers,  must  be  kept  busy. 
During  our  late  war  with  England,  who  did  not  witness  on  all  our 
frontiers,  even  in  the  States  of  New  England,  the  general  desecra- 
tion of  the  holy  day  ?  Men  swarmed  like  ants  on  a  mole  hill,  to 
throw  up  entrenchments;  the  wharves  resounded  with  din  of  busi- 
ness ;  and  idlers  forsook  the  house  of  God  to  gaze  upon  the  scenes 
of  preparation.     - 

Do  Christians  consider  these  unavoidable  results,  when  they 
give  their  voice  for  war  ?  No.  The  calm  consideration  of  such 
concomitants,  would  make  it  impossible  for  them  to  advise  or 
sanction  the  profane  and  abominable  thin^. 

3.  War  produces  a  wicked  waste  of  national  wealth. 

The  disbursements  of  a  belligerent  government,  drawn  of  course 
by  taxation  from  the  laboring  community,  form  an  incalculable 
amount.  Our  last  war  with  England  cost  us  more  than  a  hundred 
millions  of  dollars  per  annum.  During  the  last  175  years,  Eng- 
land has  had  iioenty-four  wars  with  France,  twelve  with  Scotland, 
eight  with  Spain,  and  two  with  America,  besides  all  her  other  wars 
in  India  and  elsewhere.  These  have  cost  her  government,  ac- 
cording to  official  returns,  three  thousand  millions  of  pounds  ster- 
ling, or  FIFTEEN    THOUSAND    MILLIONS    OF    DOLLARS  !      The    War 

which  ended  at  Waterloo,  cost  France  £700,000,000,  and  Austria 
£300,000,000,  or  five  thousand  millions  of  dollars  !  How  much  it 
cost  Spain,  Sweden,  Holland,  Germany,  Prussia  and  Russia,  I 
have  no  means  of  knowing,  but  at  least  an  equal  sum.  Thus  one 
long  war  cost  Europe  at  least  fort^  thousand  millions*  The  an- 
nual interest  of  this  sum,  at  five  per  cent,  is  two  thousand  millions 
of  dollars, — enough  almost  to  banish  suffering  poverty  from  Eu- 
rope !  For  all  this,  nothing  has  been  gained.  Nay,  the  spend- 
ing of  it  thus  has  produced  an  aggregate  of  vice  and  poverty,  pain 
and  bereavement,  more  than,  without  war,  would  have  come  upon 
the  whole  human  family  since  the  flood  !  Who  then  can  begin  to 
compute  the  cost  of  aZ/  the  wars  even  in  Europe  alone  ? 

We  often  hear  much  railing  against  useless  expenditure,  and 
proposals  for  economy  in  dress,  furniture,  &c.,  and  it  is  well. 
But  those  who  insist  on  these  modes  of  frugality  should  be  con- 
sistent. Let  them  remember  that  all  the  retrenchments  they  re^ 
commend  are  but  as  the  dust  of  the  balance  compared  to  the  ex- 
penditures of  a  war.  But  vast  as  are  the  expenses  of  belligerent 
governments,  they  do  not  constitute  a  tenth  of  the  true  expenses 
of  war !  We  must  reckon  the  destruction  of  property,  private  and 
public — the  ruin  of  trade  and  commerce — the  suspension  of  ma?lu- 
factories — the  loss  of  the  productive  labor  of  soldiers  and  camp 
followers.     But  who  can  reckon  such  amounts  ? 


10  CRIMINALITY    OF    W^AR.  442 

Further,  let  it  be  considered  that  all  these  items  must  be  doubled 
and  trebled  in  cases  of  civil  wars,  and  that  such  form  a  large  part 
of  the  catalogue. 

Further  still,  war  causes  the  great  bulk  of  taxation  even  in  time 
of  peace !  Witness  the  annual  appropriations  for  fleets  and  stand- 
ing armies,  forts,  arsenals,  weapons,  pensions,  &.c.  Even  since 
our  last  war  with  England,  we  have  been  paying  annually^  for  the 
above  objects,  about  ten  times  as  much  as  for  the  support  of  our 
civil  government!!  "The  war  spirit"  is  taxing  our  people  to 
the  amount  of  unnumbered  millions,  now  in  time  of  profound  peace. 
A  single  74  gun  ship,  beside  all  her  cost  of  construction  and 
equipment,  costs  in  time  of  peace,  while  afloat,  $200,000  per  an- 
num— eight  times  the  salary  of  the  President  of  the  United  States. 
JSTearly  all  the  taxes  paid  hy  civilized  nations,  go  in  some  form  or 
other  to  the  support  of  war  !  All  the  British  debt  which  is  grind- 
ing her  people  into  the  dust,  was  created  by  war.  The  cost  of  the 
wars  of  Europe  alone,  in  only  the  last  century,  would  have  built 
all  the  canals,  railroads,  and  churches,  and  established  all  the 
schools,  colleges,  and  hospitals,  wanted  on  the  whole  globe  ! 

■  4.  War  is  the  grossest  form  of  murder. 

Private  murders  are  atrocious — those  of  war  far  more  so.  But 
the  contrary  opinion  prevails  ;  and  we  adduce  proofs.  War  en- 
hances the  crime  of  murder  on  the  following  accounts : 

(1.)  It  is  more  cold-blooded  and  cruel.  Malice  prompts  private 
murder,  and  the  proof  of  it  is  necessary  to  conviction  by  a  jury ; 
and  the  more  cool  and  calculating,  the  more  guilt.  But  murder  in 
war  is  more  cool  and  calculating,  than  even  in  a  duel.  The  ques- 
tion of  war  or  peace  is  calmly  debated,  deliberately  resolved  upon, 
and  proclaimed  in  form.  Armies  are  raised,  and  drilled,  and 
marched,  and  engaged,  with  all  coolness  and  calculation.  The 
contending  tiosts  know  not  each  other,  cherish  no  personal  hate, 
and  seldom  know  the  true  grounds  of  the  contest  All  is  done 
with  whatever  of  aggravation  attends  deliberate  homicide. 

(2.)  It  is  more  vast  in  amount  * 

Computation  falters  when  we  estimate  the  numbers  slain  in  war 
or  by  reason  of  it  Three  hundred  thousand  men  fell  in  one  bat- 
tle, when  Attila,  king  of  the  Huns,  was  defeated  at  Chalons. 
Nearly  the  entire  army  of  Xerxes,  consisting  of  four  millions  of 
persons,  perished.  Julius  Cssar,  in  one  campaign  in  Germany, 
destroyed  half  a  million.  More  than  half  a  million  perished  in 
one  campaign  of  Napoleon,  averaging  3000  men  a  day.  Paying 
no  attention  to  the  innumerable  wars  among  Pagans  before  and 
since  the  birth  of  Christ,  nor  to  all  the  wasting  wars  of  the  past 
seventeen  centuries,  it  is  matter  of  distinct  calculation  that  about 
five  millions  of  nominal  Christians,  have  been  butchered  by  nomi- 
nal Christians,  within  the  last  haf  century!  What  then  has  been 
the*total  of  war-murders  since  creation  ? 

Nor  is  the  number  of  the  slain  the  real  total.  Multitudes  of 
"  the  wounded  and  missing  "  die ;  multitudes  perish  out  of  armies 


443  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  11 

and  fleets  without  battle,  by  hardships,  exposure,  vice,  contagion, 
and  climate.  We  ought,  therefore,  at  least  to  double  the  number 
slain  in  engagements,  to  arrive  at  the  true  sum  ;  and  make  ten 
millions  of  men  destroyed  within  half  a  century  by  Christian  na- 
tions' quarrels ! 

(3.)  Deaths  caused  by  war,  are  accompanied  by  liorrid  aggra- 
vations of  suffering. 

The  wretches  die,  not  on  beds  of  down,  surrounded  by  all  that 
can  relieve  or  palliate  suffering.  No  soft  hand  smooths  the  couch, 
or  wipes  the  brow.  No  skilful  physician  stands  watching  every 
symptom.  The  silence,  the  quiet,  the  cleanliness,  the  sympathy, 
the  love,  the  skill,  that  divest  the  chamber  of  death  of  all  its  hor- 
ror, and  half  its  anguish,  are  not  for  the  poor  soldier.  Private 
murder  is  always  done  in  haste,  and  the  sufferer  is  often  dis- 
missed from  life  in  a  moment.  Not  so  in  war.  Few  are  killed 
outright.  The  victim  dies  slowly  of  unmedicated  wounds.  Pros- 
trate amid  the  trampling  of  columns  and  of  horses  which  have  lost 
their  riders,  or  in  a  trench,  amid  heaps  of  killed  and  wounded,  he 
dies  a  hundred  deaths.  If,  mangled  and  miserable,  he  finds  him- 
self still  alive,  when  the  tide  of  battle  has  passed,  how  forlorn  his 
condition !  Unable  to  drag  himself  from  the  ghastly  scene,  his 
gory  limbs  chilled  with  the  damps  of  night,  tortured  with  thirst, 
and  quivering  witli  pain,  his  heart  sickened  with  the  remembrance 
of  home,  and  his  soul  dismayed  at  the  approach  of  eternal  retribu- 
tions, he  meets  death  with  all  that  can  make  it  terrific. 

(4.)  The  multitudes  murdered  in  war,  are  generally  sent  to 
hell. 

The  thought  is  too  horrible  for  steady  contemplation ;  but  we 
are  bound  to  consider  it.  "  No  murderer  hath  eternal  life."  Sol- 
diers are  murderers  in  intent  and  profession,  and -^  die  in  the  act 
of  killing  others,  and  with  implements  of  murder  in  their  hands. 
Without  space  for  repentance,  they  are  hurried  to  the  bar  of  God. 
On  what  grounds  may  we  affirm  their  salvation  ?  O  that  those 
that  know  the  worth  of  souls,  would  dwell  on  this  feature  of  the 
dreadful  custom ! 

(5.)  War  first  corrupts  those  whom  it  destroys,  and  thus  ag- 
gravates damnation  itself. 

Bad  as  are  most  men  who  enlist  in  standing  armies,  war  makes 
them  worse.  They  might  at  any  rate  be  lost,  but  their  vocation 
sends  them  to  a  more  dreadful  doom.  The  recruit  begins  his 
degradation,  even  in  the  rendezvous,  ere  he  has  lodged  a  week 
within  its  walls.     He  grows  still  worse  in  camp. 

In  the  army,  vice  becomes  his  occupation.  His  worst  passions 
are  fostered.  His  Sabbaths  are  necessarily  profaned.  He  becomes 
ashamed  of  tender  feelings,  and  conscientious  scruples.  Thus  an 
old  soldier  is  generally  a  hardened  offender ;  and  the  shot  that 
terminates  his  life,  consigns  him  to  a  destiny  rendered  more  ter- 
rible by  his  profession.  Had  the  money  and  time,  which  has  been 
lavished  to  equip  and  drill  and  support  him  as  a  soldier,  been  spent 


12  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  444 

for  his  intellectual  and  moral  improvement,  he  might  have  been  an 
ornament  to  society,  and  a  pillar  in  the  church.  « 

Mark  his  grim  corpse  as  men  bear  it  to  tlie  gaping  pit  into 
which  whole  cart-loads  of  bodies  are  thrown.  The  property,  nay 
the  liberty  of  a  whole  nation  is  not  a  price  for  his  soul !  How  then 
can  Christians  with  one  hand  give  to  the  support  of  missions,  and 
with  the  other  uphold  a  custom^  which  counteracts  every  good 
enterprise  ? 

CONCLUDING   REMARKS. 

How  strange,  how  awful,  that  to  such  a  trade  as  war,  man- 
kind has,  in  all  ages,  lifted  up  its  admiration !  Poetry  lends 
its  fascinations,  and  philosophy  its  inventions.  Eloquence,  in 
forum  and  field,  has  wrought  up  the  war  spirit  to  fanati- 
cism and  frenzy.  Even  the  pulpit,  whose  legitimate  and  glo- 
rious theme  is  "  Peace  on  earth,"  has  not  withheld  its  solemn 
sanctions.  The  tender  sex,  with  strange  infatuation,  have  admired 
the  tinselled  trappings  of  him  whoso  trade  is  to  make  widows  and 
orphans.  Their  hands  have  been  withdrawn  from  the  distaff,  to 
embroider  warrior's  ensigns.  The  young  mother  has  arrayed  her 
proud  boy  with  cap  and  feather,  toved  him  with  drum  and  sword, 
and  trained  him,  unconsciously,  to  love  and  admire  the  profession 
of  a  man-killer. 

The  universal  maxim  has  been,  "  in  peace  prepare  for  war ;" 
and  men  are  all  their  days  contributing  and  taxing  themselves  to 
defray  the  expenses  of  killing  each  other. 

Scarcely  has  a  voice  been  lifted  up  to  spread  the  principles  of 
peace.  Every  other  principle  of  Christianity  has  had  its  apostles. 
Howard  reformed  prisons  ;  Sharp,  and  Clarkson,  and  Wilberforce 
arrested  the  slave-trade.  Carey  carried  the  gospel  to  India. 
Every  form  of  vice  has  its  antagonists,  and  every  class  of  sufferers 
find  philanthropists.  But  who  stands  forth  to  urge  the  law  of 
love?  Who  attacks  this  monster  War?  We  have  not  waited  for 
the  millennium  to  abolish  intemperance,  or  Sabbath  breaking ;  but 
we  wait  for  it  to  abolish  war.  It  is  certain  that  tlie  millennium 
cannot  come,  till  war  expires. 

Shall  it  so  remain  ?  Shall  this  gorgon  of  pride,  corruption, 
destructiveness,  misery  and  murder,  be  still  admired  and  fed, 
while  it  is  turning  men's  hearts  to  stone,  and  the  garden  of  the 
Lord  into  the  desolation  of  death  ?  Let  every  heart  say  no.  Let 
Christians  shine  before  men  as  sons  of  peace,  not  less  than  as  sons 
of  justice  and  truth.  If  wars  and  rumors  of  wars  continue,  let  the 
church, stand  aloof.  It  is  time  she  was  purged  of  this  stain.  Her 
brotherhood  embraces  all  nations.  Earthly  rulers  may  tell  us  we 
have  enemies ;  but  our  heavenly  King  commands  us  to  return  them 
good  for  evil ;  if  they  hunger,  to  feed  them ;  if  they  thirst,  to  give 
Uiem  drink. 

Rise  then.  Christians,  to  noble  resolution  and  vigorous  endeav- 
ors! Retire  from  military  trainings,  and  spurn  the  thought  of 
being  hired  by  the  month  to  rob  and  kill.    Refuse  to  study  the 


445  CRIMINALITY    OP    WAR.  13 

tactics,  or  practice  the  handicraft  of  death;  and  with  "a  hope  that 
maketh  not  ashamed,"  proclaim  the  principles  of  universal  peace, 
as  part  and  parcel  of  eternal  truth. 

A  portion  of  our  missionary  spirit  should  be  expended  in  this 
department.  Shall  we  pour  out  our  money  and  our  prayers,  when 
we  hear  of  a  widow  burnt  on  her  husband's  funeral  pile,  or  deluded 
wretches  crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of  Juggernaut,  but  do  noth- 
ing to  dethrone  this  Moloch  to  Avhom  hundreds  of  millions  of  Chris- 
tians have  been  sacrificed.^  Among  the  fifty  millions  of  the 
Presidency  of  Bengal,  the  average  number  of  suttees  (widows 
burned,  «Sz-c.)  has  for  twenty  years  been  less  than  500,  or  in  the 
proportion  of  one  death  in  a  year  for  such  a  population  as  Phila- 
delphia. What  is  this  to  war  ?  Every  day  of  some  campaigns 
has  Cost  more  lives ! 

We  must  not  abstain  from  effort,  because  of  apparent  obstacles. 
What  great  reform  does  not  meet  obstructions  ?  The  overthrow 
of  Papal  supremacy  by  Luther,  the  temperance  movement,  and  a 
host  of  similar  historic  facts,  show  that  truth  is  mighty,  and  when 
fairly  and  perseveringly  exhibited,  will  prevail.  It  can  be  shown, 
that  in  attempting  to  abolish  all  war,  we  encounter  fewer  impedi- 
ments than  have  attended  various  other  great  changes.  Even  if  it 
were  not  so,  we  have  a  duty  to  discharge  whether  we  prevail  or 
not.     Moral  obligation  does  not  rest  on  the  chance  of  success. 

Our  obstacles  are  neither  numerous  nor  formidable.  No  classes 
of  men  love  war  for  its  own  sake.  If  it  were  abolished,  those  who 
now  make  it  a  profession,  could  all  find  profitable  and  pleasanter 
employment  in  peaceful  pursuits.  Men's  interests  are  not  against 
us ;  but  the  contrary.  The  people  are  not  blood-thirsty.  What 
serious  impediment  is  there  to  obstruct  the  diffusion  of  peace  prin- 
ciples ?  None  more  than  beset  even  the  most  popular  enterprise 
of  literature  or  benevolence.  Our  only  obstruction  is  apathy,  and 
the  unfortunate  sentiment  that  the  millennium  is  to  do  it  away,  we 
know  not  how.  But  we  might  as  well  do  nothing  against  intem- 
perance, or  Sabbath-breaking,  or  hei-esy  ;  and  wait  for  the  millen- 
nium to  do  them  away.  Nothing  will  be  done  in  this  world  without 
means,  even  when  the  millennium,  shall  have  come. 

Do  you  ask  what  you  can  do  ?  Much,  very  much,  whoever  you 
are.  Cherish  in  yourself  the  true  peace-spirit.  Try  to  diffuse 
it  Assist  in  enlightening  your  neighbors.  Talk  of  the  horrors 
of  war,  its  impolicy,  its  cost,  its  depravity,  its  utter  uselessness  in 
adjusting  national  disputes.  Teach  children  correctly  on  this 
point,  and  show  them  the  true  character  of  war,  stripped  of  its 
music  and  mock  splendor.  Banish  drums  and  swords  from  among 
their  toys.  Proclaim  aloud  the  Divine  government,  and  teach  men 
how  vain  it  is,  even  in  a  righteous  cause,  to  trust  an  arm  of  flesh. 
Insist  that  patriotism,  in  its  common  acceptation,  is  not  a  virtue ; 
for  it  limits  us  to  love  our  country^  and  allows  us  to  hate  and  injure 
other  nations.  Thus  if  Canada  were  annexed  to  our  Union,  we 
must,  on  that  account,  love  Canadians.  But  if  South  Carolina 
should  secede,  we  must  withdraw  part  of  our  love,  or  perhaps  go 

p.  T.       NO.   L.       2  _ 


1 


14  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  446 

to  war  and  kill  as  many  as  possible.  O  how  absurd  to  act  thus, 
as  though  God's  immutable  law  of  love  was  to  be  obeyed  or  not  as 
our  boundaries  may  be. 

'•'  Lands  intersected  by  a  narrow  sea, 
Abhor  each  other.     Mountains  interposed, 
Make  enemies  of  nations  who  had  else, 
Like  kindred  drops,  beeu  mij^ied  into  one." 

Let  US  feel  and  disseminate  the  sentiment  that  true  patriotism  is 
shown  only  by  the  good.  A  man  may  claim  to  be  a  patriot,  and 
love  "his  country,"  whose  feelings  are  so  vague  and  worthless 
that  he  loves  no  one  in  it!  He  loves  a  mere  name !  or  rather,  his 
patriotism  is  a  mere  name.  Wiiole  classes  of  his  fellow-citizens 
may  remain  in  vice,  ignorance,  slavery,  poverty,  and  yet  he  feels 
no  sympathy,  offers  no  aid.  Sodom  would  have  been  saved,  had 
there  been  in  it  ten  righteous.  These  then  would  have  been  pat- 
riots. These  would  have  saved  their  country.  We  have  in  our 
land  many  righteous.  These  are  our  security.  These  save  the 
land  from  a  curse.     These  therefore  are  the  only  true  patriots. 

Let  us  unite  in  "showing  up"  military  glory.  What  is  it.? 
Grant  that  it  is  all  that  it  has  ever  passed  for,  and  it  still  seems 
superlatively  worthless.  The  wreaths  of  conquerors  fade  daily. 
We  give  their  names  to  dogs  and  slaves.  The  smallest  useful 
volume  gives  its  author  a  better  and  more  lasting  name.  And 
how  absurd,  too,  is  it  to  talk  to  common  soldiers  and  under  officers 
about  military  glory !  Among  the  many  millions  who  have  toiled 
and  died  for  love  of  glory,  scarcely  a  score  are  remembered  among 
men!  Who  of  our  revolutionary  heroes  but  Washington  and 
Lafayette  are  known  in  the  opposite  hemisphere  ?  Who  of  our 
own  citizens  can  tell  over  a  half  dozen  distinguished  soldiers  in» 
our  struggle  for  independence  ?  Yet  that  war  is  of  late  date.  Of 
the  men  of  former  wars  we  know  almost  nothing.  Essentially 
stupid  then  is  the  love  of  military  renown  in  petty  officers  and  the 
common  private.  They  stake  their  lives  in  a  lottery  where  tliere 
is  hardly  a  prize  in  five  hundred  years ! 

Let  us  print  and  propagate  peace  principles.  Public  opinion 
has  been  changed  on  many  points  by  a  few  resolute  men.  Let  us 
keep  the  subject  before  tlie  people  till  every  man  forms  a  delibe- 
rate opinion,  whether  Christianity  allows  or  forbids  war.  Let  us 
at  least  do  so  much  that  if  ever  our  country  engages  in  another 
war,  we  shall  feel  no  share  of  the  guilt.  Let  us  each  do  so  much 
that  if  we  should  ever  walk  over  a  battle-field,  stunned  with  the 
groans  and  curses  of  the  wounded,  and  horror-struck  at  the  in- 
fernal spectacle,  we  can  feel  that  we  did  all  toe  could  to  avert  such 
an  evil.  Let  us  clear  ourselves  of  blame.  No  one  of  us  can  put 
a  stop  to  war.  But  we  can  help  stop  it — and  combined  and  perse- 
vering effort  icUl  stop  it. 

I  will  offer  but  one  consideration  more ;  viz.,  the 


447  CRIMINALITY    OF   WAR.  IS 


FEASIBILITY  OF  A   COURT    OF  NATIONS. 

The  friends  of  this  cause  place  before  the  world  a  distinct  plan 
for  the  establishment  and  preservation  of  universal  peace.  We 
propose  that  five  or  six  of  the  great  nations  of  the  earth,  elect  each 
an  able  lawyer  or  statesman,  to  meet  as  a  "  CongAess  of  Na- 
tions "  somewhere  in  Europe,  and  spend  a  few  years  in  digesting 
a  code  of  international  law.  We  now  refer  to  Vattel,  or  Montes- 
quieu, or  Grctius ;  but  these  men  have  no  other  authority  than  as 
great -nvriters.  We  want  an  admitted,  authoritative  and  detailed 
code  for  the  regulation  of  nations  in  their  intercourse  with  each 
other.  Such  a  code  once  formed  and  ratified  by  the  few  high 
powers  of  earth,  would  be,  what  as  yet  does  not  exist,  a  system  of 
iiiternational  law. 

The  decision  of  disputes  according  to  this  code  would  belong 
to  a  permanent  body  of  judges,  elected  like  the  members  of  the 
Congress,  and  forming  a  "  Court  or  Nations."  These  might 
either  meet  as  occasion  required,  or  sit  statedly.  What  an  august 
tribunal !  How  would  our  own  Clay  shine  there  by  the  side  of 
Brougham  and  Guizot !  How  much  more  probably  would  justice 
be  obtained  there  by  a  wronged  nation,  than  if  the  decision  were 
made  to  result  from  a  pitched  battle  ! 

I  see  no  objection  to  the  plan,  as  an  abstract  question  of  debate ; 
none  as  to  its  practical  workings.  We  have  much  history,  much 
experience  to  encourage  the  attempt.  The  Amphictyonic  Coun- 
cil preserved  peace  to  the  states  of  Greece.  The  Germanic  Diet 
was  a  court  of  nations  to  more  than  thirty  free  states  and  cities. 
The  Cantons  of  Switzerland,  though  differing  in  language,  religion 
and  intelligence,  live  peaceably  under  a  similar  compact.  The 
united  provinces  of  Holland  maintained  entire  peace  by  such  an 
arrangement  for  two  hundred  years.  These  United  States,  free 
and  sovereign,  have  agreed  to  settle  their  disputes  before  a  Su- 
preme Court,  and  have  forever  renounced  the  right  to  go  to  war 
with  each  other.  Who  then  will  say  that  a  plan  which  has 
worked  well  in  so  many  instances,  may  not  be  successful  on  a 
larger  scale  ? 

The  plan  of  referring  disputes  between  nations  to  the  arbitration 
of  a  neutral  power,  is  found  to  produce  the  happiest  results,  and- 
is  very  often  tried.  Yet  how  inferior  to  this  plan !  The  monarch 
who  arbitrates,  may  not  have  time  or  inclination  to  examine  de- 
tails. Or  he  may  have  selfish  inducements  to  lean  to  one  side. 
And  at  best  he  has  not,  as  our  court  Avould  have,  an  admitted  code 
to  govern  his  decision. 

I  lov6  to  anticipate  the  formation  of  a  court  of  nations.  Round 
such  a  tribunal  would  shine  a  splendor,  resembling,  more  than 
aught  earth  ever  saw  before,  the  glory  of  the  throne  of  God ! 
There  would  sit  a  bench  of  peace-makers,  dispensing  tranquillity, 
confidence  and  safety,  not  to  cities  only,  or  to  nations,  but  to  the 


16  CRIMINALITY    OF    WAR.  448 

world  !  From  them  would  go  forth,  under  God,  unmimbered  bles- 
sings to  the  whole  family  of  man.  Before  them,  petty  despots, 
and  blood-thirsty  aspirants,  would  be  crushed  in  their  beginnings. 
Earth  would  no  more  be  stained  with  the  blood  of  the  brave.  The 
horrors  of  tlie  conscription  and  the  press-gang  would  cease.  Com- 
merce would  spread  her  free  and  fearless  sails  on  every  sea,  and 
navies  would  dwindle  to  a  mere  police. 

What  can  be  said  why  such  a  courf  should  not  be  established  ? 
I  know  of  only  this — such  a  court  could  not  enforce  its  decisions. 
But  this  is  not  so.  What  enforces  law  in  Kentucky  ?  Not  an 
army,  but  public  opinion.  No  military  force  can  coerce  a  nation 
or  community  contrary  to  public  opinion.  This  is  a  hew  element 
in  political  economy  not  known  in  former  ages,  but  now  omnipo- 
tent No  king  can  now  wage  a  war  if  public  opinion  be  against 
him.  When  we  get  our  court  of  nations,  public  opinion  as  to  war 
will  be  right,  and  the  spirit  that  creates  the  tribunal,  will  carry  out 
its  decisions.  We  have  laws  now  which  lie  dormant — a  dead 
letter — just  because  public  opinion  is  against  them  now.  But 
when  tlie  people  are  earnest  in  favor  of  a  law,  they  want  no  army 
to  dragoon  them  into  obedience. 

Total  non-intercourse  with  a  refractory  nation  would  soon  re- 
duce it  to  submission.  Civilization  now  makes  all  nations  depen- 
dent on  each  other  for  absolute  necessaries.  But  what  nation 
would  refuse  the  reparation  which  such  a  court  ordered  ?  None 
would  be  so  mad.  No  award  would  tax  it  so  heavily  as  a  year's 
war.  Public  opinion,  once  formed  on  peace  principles,  would 
render  war  as  impossible  as  it  is  unnecessary.  The  case  would 
be  the  same  as  in  regard  to  duelling  and  profane  swearing,  which 
authority  never  could  abolish,  but  which  are  being  abolished  by 
public  opinion.  It  is  far  from  being  difficult  to  affect  public 
opinion.  See  the  effects  of  a  few  abolitionists  constantly  declaim- 
ing against  slavery.  A  hundred  such  cases  may  be  named.  We 
have  only  to  argue  and  exhort  a  few  years,  and  earth  will  enjoy 
the  incalculable  blessinsrs  of  a  Court  of  NATiorf  s. 


Franklin. — We  daily  make  great  improvements  in  natural 
philosophy,  there  is  one  I  wish  to  see  in  moral, — the  discovery  of 
a  plan  that  would  induce  and  oblige  nations  to  settle  their  disputes 
without  first  cutting  one  another's  throats.  When  will  human 
nature  be  sufficiently  improved  to  see  the  advantage  of  this  ? 

Jefferson. — Wonderful  has  been  the  progress  of  human  im- 
provement in  other  respects.  Let  us  hope  then  that  the  law  of 
nature  will  in  time  influence  the  proceedings  of  nations  as  well  as 
individuals ;  that  we  shall  at  length  be  sensible,  that  war  is  an 
instrument  entirely  inefficient  toward  redressing  wrong,  and  mul- 
tiplies instead  of  indemnifying  losses. 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,    BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  M. 

WAR  A   DESTROYER  OF   SOULS. 


The  soul  is  man's  great  interest;  and  its  ruin  involves  the 
heaviest  loss,  and  the  deepest  guilt.  It  mars  forever  the  noblest 
work  of  God  ;  it  defeats  the  main  object  of  man's  creation ;  it 
thwarts  the  leading  design  of  providence ;  it  poisons  the  purest, 
sweetest  joys  of  this  life ;  it  blasts  the  bright  and  cheering  hopes 
of  heaven;  it  entails  the  unutterable  woes  of  hell,  and  pours  upon 
the  universe  a  stream  of  unholy,  baleful  influences  that  are  des- 
tined never  to  cease. 

I  cannot  now  dwell  on  these  topics  of  vast  and  thrilling  interest ; 
but  would  you  faintly  conceive  how  much  is  lost  by  the  ruin  of  a 
single  soul  ?  Ask  not  the  worldling  ;  he  has  no  conception  of  its 
value,  no  arithmetic  for  calculations  like  these.  Ask  Him  who 
made  the  soul  for  his  own  high,  immortal  service ;  Him  who  came 
down  from  the  bosom  of  his  Father,  and  took  upon  himself  the 
form  of  a  servant,  to  redeem  the  soul  by  his  own  blood  on  the 
cross ;  or  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  is  now  at  work  amid  the  ruins  of 
the  fall  to  renew  the  soul,  and  thus  render  it  meet  for  the  pure, 
exalted,  endless  joys  of  heaven.  Go,  ask  the  saint,  as  he  bows, 
and  sings,  and  rejoices  with  joy  unspeakable  before  the  throne  of 
God  and  the  Lamb ;  or  the  lost  sinner,  as  he  writhes  in  the  ago- 
nies of  that  world  '  where  the  worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  never 
to  be  quenched,  but  sendeth  up  the  smoke  of  its  torment  forever 
and  ever.'  Push  your  thoughts  as  far  into  a  coming  eternity  as 
you  can ;  and,  when  myriads  after  myriads  of  ages  beyond  your 
utmost  power  to  conceive,  shall  have  passed  away,  pause  there, 
and  ask  the  glorified  spirits  of  heaven,  ask  the  hopeless  sufferers 
in  hell,  ask  the  omniscient  God  himself,  to  tell  you  how  much  is 
lost,  forever  lost,  by  the  ruin  of  but  one  soul  created  in  the  image 
of  its  Maker,  and  bound  to  a  blissful  or  a  miserable  immortality ! 

Alas!  that  the  world  should  be  so  full  of  influences  fatal  or 
dangerous  to  the  soul !  Business  and  pleasure,  avarice  and  am- 
bition, intemperance  and  licentiousness,  infidelity,  atheism  and 
paganism,  a  thousand  forms  of  error  and  sin  are  every  where  con- 
spiring to  put  in  jeopardy  the  immortal  interests  of  mankind  ;  but, 
passing  over  all  the  rest,  let  us  now  inquire  in  how  many  ways 

THE  CUSTOM  OF  WAR  RUINS  THE  SOUL. 

It  turns  the  attention  of  men  away  from  (heir  spiritual  concerns. 
A  war  in  actual  progress  becomes  of  course  the  standing  theme 
in  halls  of  legislation ;  it  fills  every  newspaper,  and  forms  the 
leading  topic  of  conversation  through  the  community ;  it  obtrudes 
itself  into  the  family  and  the  social  circle,  into  the  field,  the  shop 
and  the  counting-room.  The  whole  land  is  full  of  it ;  the  public 
mind  is  saturated  with  it ;  and  such  an  absorption  of  high  and  low, 

p.  T.       NO.    LI. 


2  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OF    SOULS.  450 

old  and  young,  saints  and  sinners,  on  any  other  subject  than  that 
of  vital  godliness,  cannot  fail  to  obstruct  their  salvation.  Such  a 
result  is  inevitable ;  and  all  history  proves  it  so.  If  the  rage  of 
eager,  gainful  speculation^  or  a  tale  of  village  slander,  or  the  strife 
of  a  warmly  contested  election,  or  even  contention  about  the  set- 
tlement of  a  pastor,  or  the  location  of  a  church,  will  sometimes 
blast  in  its  very  bud  the  most  promising  revival  of-^  religion,  how 
fatal  must  a  state  of  national  warfare  be !  Engrossed  with  the 
intense,  all-pervading  excitement,  the  mass  of  society  find  no  time, 
and  feel  no  disposition  to  seek  the  "  one  thing  needful." 

But  war,  also,  disqualifies  men  for  a  saving  reception  of  the  gospel. 
For  this  there  must  be  a  kind  and  a  degree  of  moral  preparation 
quite  incompatible  with  a  state  of  actual  m  arfare.  Of  what  use  to 
sow  grain  upon  a  rock,  or  amid  thorns  and  thistles  ?  Metals  must 
be  melted  tfefore  you  can  cast  them ;  you  must  heat  iron  nearly  to 
the  point  of  fusion,  before  you  can  weld  it ;  and  upon  a  commu- 
nity of  minds  impregnated  with  war-passions,  the  strongest  truths 
of  God's  word  would  fall  powerless  as  moon-beams  on  a  mountain 
of  ice.  Wherever  the  war-spirit  prevails,  there  would  you  labor 
in  vain  for  the  conversion  of  sinners,  or  the  sanctification  of  Chris- 
tians. So  will  you  find  it  alike  on  a  large  and  a  small  scale.  Let 
a  family  or  a  neighborhood  be  filled  week  after  week  with  such  a 
spirit, — with  jealousy  and  anger,  with  hatred,  wrath  and  revenge, 
the  grand  moral  elements  of  war; — and  could  the  gospel  reach 
them  in  such  a  state  of  mind  with  its  redeeming  influences  ? 
Should  any  church  be  pervaded  with  the  mildest  form  of  the  war- 
spirit,  alienating  its  members  from  each  other,  distracting  their 
councils,  and  holding  them  back  from  prayer  and  efibrt  for  the 
salvation  of  men,  could  they  in  such  circumstances  expect  a  re- 
vival of  religion  to  commence  or  continue  ? 

But  war  throws  millions  of  minds  into  a  state  even  worse  than 
this.  It  fills  whole  empires  with  animosity,  malevolence,  revenge. 
It  makes  the  public  heart  a  cauldron  of  seething,  boiling  passions. 
It  blinds  the  mind  to  God's  truth ;  it  sears  or  perverts  the  con- 
science ;  it  hardens  or  exasperates  the  heart ;  it  renders  the  whole 
soul  well  nigh  impenetrable  for  the  time  to  any  arrows  even  from 
the  quiver  of  the  Almighty.  Can  you  bring  the  truth  of  God  into 
saving  contact  with  minds  thus  afiected  ?  Can  you,  with  any  hope 
of  success,  preach  tlie  gospel  to  an  army  on  tiptoe  for  battle,  or  lo 
a  community  roused  and  convulsed  with  the  fierce,  vindictive  pas- 
sions of  war?  As  well  might  you  sow  grain  upon  the  rapids  of 
Niagara,  into  the  burning  crater  of  Etna,  and  hope  for  a  harvest 
Breathe  the  genuine  war-spirit  into  every  bosom  on  earth ;  and 
from  that  moment  must  the  work  of  conversion  and  sanctification 
cease  every  where. 

But  war,  moreover,  prevents  the  tise  of  means  for  the  salvation  of 
men.  The  three  millions  of  standing  warriors  now  (1845)  in  Chris- 
tendom, it  deprives  even  in  peace  of  nearly  all  religious  privileges, 
and  thus  exposes  them  to  almost  certain  perdition.  No  class  of 
men,  not  even  seamen,  are  so  poorly  provided  with  the  means  of 
grace.    Next  to  nothing  is  done  for  their  salvation.    There  is  no 


451  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OF    SOULS.  8 

pastor,  no  missionary  among  them  to  care  for  their  souls ;  and, 
if  there  were,  his  labors,  subject  to  the  dictation  of  an  ungodly 
commander,  would  probably  be,  like  those  of  Baxter  himself  even 
in  a  Puritan  camp,  well  nigh  useless.  No  Sabbath  dawns  upon 
them ;  no  sanctuary  opens  its  doors  to  them ;  no  Sabbath-school, 
no  prayer-meeting,  no  family  altar,  scarce  a  Bible  or  a  tract  can 
be  found  among  the  mass  of  men  trained  to  the  work  of  human 
butchery  for  a  livelihood. 

So  it  must  be.  Look  at  the  very  nature  of  war ;  and  tell  us 
what  can  be  done  for  the  souls  of  men  cast  in  its  own  mould,  im- 
bued with  its  spirit,  and  steeped  in  its  vices  and  crimes.  Review 
the  history  of  war ;  and  tell  us  what  has  been  done  or  attempted 
for  the  salvation  of  warriors.  Among  the  millions  that  fought,  and 
the  millions  that  fell,  during  the  late  wars  of  Europe,  did  one  in 
ten  or  a  hundred  enjoy  the  ordinary  means  of  grace  ? 

I  grant  that  much  more  is  now  done  in  a  few  Christian  countries 
for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  warriors  ;  but  how  very  little,  and  with 
results  how  meagre  and  miserable !  We  hear  indeed  of  chaplains 
in  the  army  and  the  navy ;  but  what  do  they  do  for  their  spiritual 
charge  ?  What  can  they  do  ?  Suppose  a  minister  of  Christ  were 
employed  in  a  brothel  or  a  grog-shop  to  pray  and  preach  in  a  way 
to  sanction  the  deeds  done  there,  would  he  be  likely  by  such  a 
course  to  reclaim  the  frequenters  of  those  gate-ways  to  hell,  and 
train  them  up  for  heaven  ?  I  mean  no  personal  disrespect ;  but  I  am 
constrained  to  regard  the  whole  business  of  war-chaplaincies  as  a 
piece  "of  solemn  mockery,  an  attempt  to  blend  Christ  with  Belial, 
to  make  Christianity  bow  in  homage  before  the  altar  of  Moloch. 

I  could  easily  quote  facts  to  prove  the  general  futility  of  such 
chaplaincies.  On  this  point  I  have  myself  heard  from  eye-wit- 
nesses, statements  which  would  startle  the  Christian  community ; 
but  I  will  give  only  a  few  extracts  from  the  report  of  a  Mr.  Smith 
in  1828,  then  a  Christian  minister,  but  once  a  naval  officer,  "  on  the 
religious  state  of  the  British  navy."  Devoting  himself  to  the  reli- 
gious welfare  of  seamen,  he  went,  by  permission  of  the  lieutenant, 
on  board  a  man-of-war,  to  distribute  some  religious  tracts,  but  was 
rudely  expelled  by  the  captain.  "I  begged,"  says  he,  "to  speak 
with  the  captain,  and  said,  I  presume,  sir,  you  have  been  misin- 
formed ;  I  am  not  aware  of  having  done  any  thing  to  incur  your 
displeasure. — '  Yes,  sir,  you  have  by  dispersing  religious  tracts.' — 
You  are  mistaken,  sir ;  I  have  not  given  one. — '  Then  you  had  no 
business  to  go  below.' — I  asked  permission  of  your  commanding 
officer,  sir. — '  I  am  myself  commanding  officer  of  this  ship,  sir.' — I 
know  you  are ;  but  when  you  were  not  on  quarter-deck,  I  con- 
ceived your  first  lieutenant  acted  for  you. — '  I  will  not  have  my 
men  visited  by  any  one  without  my  permission.' — Sir,  I  could  do 
them  no  possible  injury  ;  I  am  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  wish 
to  do  them  all  the  good  I  can.  I  have  myself  been  in  the  navy, 
and  therefore  know  well  the  rules  of  the  service,  and  should  be  the 
last  to  disobey,  or  lead  others  to  act  contrary  to  the  due  subordi- 
nation and  routine  of  the  profession. — '  Still  you  had  no  right  down 
below  in  my  ship.' — Why,  sir,  I  found  many  of  the  vilest  unmarried 


4  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OF    SOULS.  452 

females  below,  teaching  the  men  all  sorts  of  obscenity  and  abomi- 
nation. Surely,  if  these  were  allowed  to  crowd  the  ship,  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  might  be  permitted  also. — '  No,  sir,  they  come  to  the 
men  by  my  permission  ;  you  do  not.' — I  am  truly  sorry  for  it,  sir ; 
for  they  will  corrupt  and  ruin  the  whole  crew. — '  Never  mind  that, 
sir ;  mind  your  own  business  ; — I  '11  have  no  religious  tracts  dis- 
tributed in  my  ship.'  "  To  such  men  does  every  chaplain  swear 
obedience ;  nor  can  he,  without  their  permission,  attempt  any  thing 
for  the  salvation  of  seamen  or  soldiers.  Thus  manacled  and 
thwarted,  what  could  even  a  Payson  or  a  Baxter  accomplish? 

I  fear  that  the  war-system  makes  fearful  havoc  of  souls  among 
its  own  agents,  even  in  a  time  of  peace.  Every  one,  acquainted 
with  its  practical  operation,  knows  it  to  be  a  school  of  irreligion, 
vice  and  profligacy ;  nor  could  you  well  select  a  surer  way  to  per- 
dition than  the  army  or  the  navy,  each  worse  in  this  respect  than 
a  state-prison !  How  few  in  either  give  the  slightest  evidence  of 
their  being  prepared  for  heaven !  Yet  are  there  in  Christendom 
itself  three  millions  or  more,  even  m  peace,  training  in  this  school 
of  error  and  sin  for  a  miserable  eternity.  No  stretch  of  charity 
can  believe  a  tenth,  if  a  hundredth,  part  of  them  fit  for  heaven ; 
and  if  these  three  millions  die  off  on  an  average  in  twenty  years, 
there  would  annually  go  into  the  world  of  spirits  150,000  souls, 
and  more  than  nine-tenths  of  them  unprepared  for  their  last  ac- 
count !  With  this  number  compare  the  sum  total  of  church-mem- 
bers at  all  the  missibnary  stations  among  the  heathen  in  1844, 
when  they  amounted  to  172,233,  or  a  little  more,  as  the  result  of 
half  a  century's  labors  by  the  whole  church,  than  the  annual  sac- 
rifice of  souls  in  Christendom  itself  at  the  shrine  of  the  war-demon 
even  in  peace  ! ! 

I  cannot,  however,  pause  here  to  glance  at  the  far  greater  mis- 
chief occasioned  by  war  to  the  community  at  large.  The  Sabbath, 
that  sheet-anchor  of  religion,  that  main-spring  of  God's  moral 
government  over  our  world,  the  pivot  of  nearly  all  the  instrumen- 
talities appointed  for  the  recovery  of  mankind  from  sin,  it  tends, 
if  it  does  not  seek,  to  destroy.  It  knows,  it  admits  no  Sabbatli. 
Its  battles  are  fought,  its  marches  continued,  its  fortifications  con- 
structed, its  drills  performed,  all  its  labors  exacted,  all  its  recrea- 
tions indulged  on  this  even  more  than  any  other  day  of  the  week. 
The  battle  of  Waterloo,  like  a  multitude  of  others,  was  fought 
without  scruple  on  the  Sabbath ;  and  even  officers  of  a  Christian 
church  among  ourselves  have  been  heard  to  say,  'there  is  no 
Sabbath  in  times  of  war  and  revolution.'  Nor  indeed  is  there  any 
Sabbath  for  soldiers  even  in  a  time  of  peace  ;  for  all  over  Europe, 
even  in  our  own  army,  is  the  Sabbath  the  chosen  time  for  special 
and  splendid  reviews.  Soldiers  are  absolutely  compelled  to  tram- 
ple under  foot  this  day  of  God ;  and  their  example,  backed  by  men 
in  power,  and  justified  by  the  best  members  of  society  as  tlie  ne- 
cessary privilege  of  war,  must  ere-long  unclinch  the  hold  of  the 
Sabbath  upon  the  conscience,  heart  and  habits  of  any  community. 
Even  the  sons  of  the  Puritans  are  not  proof  against  influences  like 
these  ;  for  the  Sabbath  of  New  England  itself  has  received  from 


453  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OF    SOULS.  5 

three  wars, — the  French,  the  Revolutionary  and  the  last, — a  shock 
from  which  only  the  millennium  can  ever  restore  it  to  the  sanctity 
and  moral  power  which  it  had  in  the  halcyon  days  of  our  fathers. 

War,  also,  stifles  ike  very  disposition  to  use  the  means  of  grace. 
Breathe  its  spirit  of  anger,  hatred  and  revenge  into  any  circle  of 
families  ;  and  would  the  Christians  in  that  circle  be  intent  on  the 
salvation  of  its  impenitent  members  ?  Let  the  same  war-passions 
pervade  and  convulse  a  whole  congregation ;  would  their  pastor 
be  able,  or  his  church  inclined,  to  use  the  means  indispensable  to 
a  general  revival  of  religion  ? 

Take  an  example  or  two.  A  slave-holder  in  Virginia,  extremely 
irascible  and  severe,  found  at  length  a  slave  as  bad-tempered  as 
himself.  No  severity  of  punishment  could  subdue  or  bow  his 
stern,  indomitable  spirit ;  and,  even  when  smarting  under  the  lash, 
and  reeking  with  blood  from  head  to  foot,  he  would  still  defy  that 
master  to  his  face,  and  pour  upon  him  a  torrent  of  bold,  fierce, 
withering  imprecations.  It  was  Turk  meeting  Turk.  But  the 
gospel  came  ere-long  to  that  negro's  heart ;  it  tamed  the  tiger  into 
a  lamb  ;  and  then  did  that  very  slave,  once  so  full  only  of  wrath 
and  revenge,  make  it  the  burden  of  his  daily  prayers,  that  God 
would  have  mercy  on  his  cruel,  felentless  oppressor.  His  infidel 
master,  doubting  his  sincerity,  and  an  utter  stranger  to  his  present 
spirit,  treated  him  with  greater  severity  than  ever,  and  fiercely 
swore  '  he  'd  whip  the  devil  out  of  the  villain ;'  but  tiie  poor  slave, 
even  while  smarting,  and  writhing,  and  bleeding  under  the  lash, 
would  fall  on  his  knees,  and  pray  so  much  the  more,  '  God  bless 
massa  I  God  bless  my  dear  massa  ! '  This  was  too  much  even  for 
depravity  like  his  to  bear  long ;  and  that  very  master,  under  the 
blessing  of  God  upon  such  an  exhibition  of  the  Christian  spirit, 
good  returned  for  evil,  love  for  hatred,  prayers  for  bloody  stripes, 
at  length  came  himself  to  pray,  and  weep,  and  rejoice  in  Christ  with 
his  much  abused,  yet  still  affectionate  and  devoted,  solely  because 
regenerated  slave.  And  when  the  time  came  for  a  public  profes- 
sion of  their  faith  in  their  common  Savior,  you  might  have  seen 
that  master  and  his  slave  going  hand  in  hand  down  into  the  water, 
there  to  seal  the  consecration  of  themselves  to  Him  whose  match- 
less love  it  is,  rather  than  his  almighty  wrath,  that  subdues  rebel- 
lious hearts  to  his  sceptre. 

Akin  to  this  was  the  spirit  of  the  martyr's  mother.  Some  na- 
tives of  an  island  in  the  East  Indian  ocean,  exasperated  by  fre- 
quent acts  of  fraud  and  abuse,  seized  at  length  an  American  ves- 
sel, and  committed  outrages  upon  her  crew.  The  insult  was 
trumpeted  through  the  world  ;  and  one  of  our  war-ships  (Potomac, 
1832)  was  sent  half  way  round  the  globe  just  to  seek  revenge,  in 
the  name  of  a  Christian  people,  by  burning  a  whole  village, 
(Qualla  Battoo,)  and  putting  its  inhabitants,  men,  women  and 
children,  to  the  sword.  On  the  same  island,  two  missionaries  of 
the  cross,  (Munson  and  Lyman,)  mistaken  by  the  cannibals  there, — 
only  because  mistaken, — for  men  of  plunder  and  blood,  were  put 
to  death,  probably  devoured  for  food  p  and,  when  the  report  of  her 
son's  untimely  fate  was  carried  by  a  venerable  man  of  God  to  the 


tf  WAR    A    DEStROYER    OF    SOULS.  454 

widowed  mother  of  the  fallen  Lyman,  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  heaven 
streaming  witli  tears,  and  said,  'I  thank  God  for  giving  me  a  son 
to  die  in  such  a  service,  even  by  sucli  a  death ;  and  Oh  that  I  had 
another  son  to  go,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  his  murderers.'  Not 
to  carry,  as  we  had  sent,  the  death-dealing  cannon,  and  hurl  them 
by  scores  into  a  ruined  eternity ;  but  to  bear,  as  Christ  brought 
from  heaven,  offers  of  pardon  and  salvation  as  the  only  requital 
that  her  Christian  spirit  could  desire  even  for  the  murder  of  her 
favorite,  much-loved  son.  Here  is  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  the 
only  spirit  that  ever  did,  or  ever  can  use  the  means  requisite  for 
this  world's  conversion  ;  and  were  it  possible  for  the  malignant, 
vindictive  spirit  of  war  to  gangrene  the  bosom  of  every  Christian 
on  earth,  not  another  missionary,  not  even  another  Bible  or  tract 
would  ever  go  from  Cl#istian  shores  to  light  the  lamp  of  life  ever- 
lasting amid  the  six  or  eight  hundred  millions  of  our  race  now 
groping  their  way  to  eternity  beneath  the  death-shades  of  paganism. 

But  war,  likewise,  tends  in  many  ways  to  neutralize  the  means 
of  grace.  It  shuts  or  steels  the  minds  of  men  against  their  power. 
Were  two  professors  of  religion  embroiled  in  a  well-known  dis- 
graceful feud,  would  their  impenitent  neighbors  be  disposed  to 
receive  religious  instruction  from  their  lips?  Should  the  members 
of  a  church  come  before  the  public  in  the  fierce,  shameful  bicker- 
ings of  an  ecclesiastical  warfare,  would  not  the  mass  of  irreligious 
minds  be  closed  against  their  influence  for  good  ?  Should  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel,  stained  with  the  blood  of  an  enemy  slain 
in  duel  or  battle,  enter  the  pulpit  of  your  own  church,  Avould  you 
not  instantly  shut  against  him  every  avenue  to  your  heart  ?  Yet 
such  is  the  attitude  in  which  the  church  of  Christ  has  for  centuries 
stood  before  the  whole  world.  I  know  too  well  the  power  of  de- 
pravity ;  but  it  was  mainly  the  war-system  of  nations  reputedly 
Christian  that  shut  up  China,  Japan,  and  the  countries  round  the 
Mediterranean,  against  the  heralds  of  the  cross.  And  can  we 
wonder  at  their  dread  of  a  religion  so  strangely  belied  for  ages  by 
its  warring  votaries  ?  What  drew  down  the  wrath  of  Burmah  upon 
Judson  and  his  co-workers  ?  Not  so  much  hatred  of  the  gospel, 
as  the  dread  of  baptised  warriors  from  England  carrying,  or  threat- 
ening to  carry  fire  and  sword  into  the  heart  of  her  dominions. 

Have  Christians  at  length  escaped  the  contaminations  of  war  ? 
Alas !  the  church  is  still  pervaded  more  or  less  with  the  war-spirit, 
and  continues  her  patronage  of  the  war-system.  Ministers  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace  still  apologize  for  its  abominations,  and  children 
of  the  God  of  Peace  still  pray  for  his  smiles  upon  its  work  of 
death,  and  pious  parents  still  train  some  of  their  own  sons  to  its 
trade  of  human  butchery  as  the  business  of  their  life,  and  temples 
of  Jehovah  still  ring,  as  they  have  for  ages  rung,  with  praises  tf) 
his  name  for  fleets  sunk,  for  cities  burnt  to  ashes,  for  empires  cov- 
ered with  carnage  and  devastation,  for  thousands  upon  thousands 
of  immortal  souls  hurried  to  their  last  account  in  guilt  and  blood ! 
Such  a  spirit,  essential  to  the  very  existence  of  the  war-system, 
must  tend  greatly  to  neutralize  the  saving  power  of  the  gospel. 

Few  suspect  how  far  the  gospel  is  neutralized  by  the  incidental 


455  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OR    SOULS.  7 

influences  of  war.  In  1841 1  visited  a  retired  town  in  Massachu- 
setts, and  examined  the  records  of  its  only  church  for  more  than  a 
century  previous.  No  battle  had  been  fought  there ;  no  army, 
scarce  a  recruiting  officer  had  prowled  over  or  near  it ;  nor  had 
the  ordinary  means  of  grace  been  interrupted  more  than  is  common 
even  in  a  time  of  peace.  Yet  mark  the  result.  From  1729  to 
1744,  fourteen  years  of  peace,  149  were  added  to  tlie  church  ;  an 
average  of  nearly  eleven  a  year.  From  the  beginning  of  the  old 
French  war  to  the  close  of  our  Revolution  in  1783,  some  forty 
years  of  military  excitement,  there  were  only  77  additions  ;  less 
than  two  a  year,  or  a  diminution  of  more  than  five  hundred  per 
cent,  from  the  previous  period  of  peace.  From  1810  to  1815,  tbe 
time  of  our  last  war  with  tAvo  years  of  antecedent  exasperation, 
only  three  persons  were  received  into  the  church ;  one  in  a 
little  less  than  two  years !  From  1830  to  1839  there  were  183 
additions ;  about  nineteen  a  year,  or  an  increase  upon  the  last  case 
of  nearly  four  thousand  per  cent. !  Thus  we  find  the  mere  excite- 
ments of  war  diminishing  the  efficacy  of  essentially  the  same 
means,  first  more  than  500  per  cent.,  next  some  2000  per  cent.,  and 
finally  almost  4000  per  cent. ;  nor  is  it  any  exaggeration  to  say 
that  war  probably  neutralizes  four-fifths,  if  not  nine-tenths  of  the 
saving  power  of  the  gospel ! 

How  fearfully  then  must  war  tend  to  prevent  the  mdispensable 
influences  of  God's  Spirit.  Vain  without  his  blessing  would  be 
the  labors  of  Paul  or  Gabriel ;  but  will  he  succeed  the  instrumen- 
tality of  those  who  breathe  a  war-spirit  ?  Should  all  the  churches 
in  our  land  catch  such  a  spirit,  and  cherish  hatred  instead  of  love, 
revenge  in  place  of  forgiveness,  the  entire  cluster  of  war-passions, 
could  they  expect  seasons  of  refreshing  from  the  "presence  of  the 
Lord  ?  "  "  Let  the  war-mania  pervade  this  whole  nation  ;  let  the 
fierce,  reckless  strife  of  war-parties  exasperate  and  convulse  our 
entire  population ;  let  every  city,  every  considerable  village  be- 
come a  recruiting  rendezvous  with  its  riot,  and  revelry,  and  lust ; 
let  soldiers  be  quartered  all  over  the  country  to  trample  on  the 
Sabbath,  indulge  in  drunkenness,  debauchery,  and  every  species 
of  vice  and  villany ;  let  our  hills  and  valleys  resound  with  the 
uproar  of  battle  after  battle,  and  twenty  millions  of  people  be 
lashed,  like  the  chafed  and  wounded  tiger,  into  rage  and  despera- 
tion ;  let  ministers  in  the  sanctuary,  and  pious  women  in  their 
closets,  while  husbands  and  sons,  fathers  and  brothers  are  far  away 
on  the  battle-field  hewing  down  the  victims  of  their  vengeance, 
beseech  the  Father  of  all  to  nerve  the  warrior's  death-dealing  arm, 
and  give  the  weapons  of  blood  their  fullest  effect  in  the  slaughter 
of  thousands  upon  thousands ;  and  then,  as  reports  of  victory  come, 
let  shouts,  and  bonfires,  and  merry  bells,  and  solemn  processions, 
and  fulsome  eulogies,  and  songs  of  praise  to  the^  God  of  Peace, 
proclaim  the  wild  outburst  of  joy  from  a  whole  people  at  a  result 
so  full  of  lamentation  and  wo  for  two  worlds !  Would  the  Spirit 
of  God  come  to  dwell  amid  such  scenes  ? 

But  I  cannot  linger  on  a  point  so  revolting  ;  nor  will  I  attempt 
to  tell  how  this  custom  fosters  ignorance,  vice  and  crime ; — how  it 


8  WAR    A    DESTROYER    OF    SOULS.  456 

debase  the  understanding,  and  brutalizes  more  or  less  the  whole 
inner  man ; — how  it  blinds  or  steels  the  mind  to  the  truth  of  God ; — 
how  it  sears  or  benumbs  the  conscience  ; — how  it  turns  tlie  heart 
into  adamant; — how  it  makes  tlie  soul  proof  against  the  best 
means  of  grace ; — how  it  gives  rise  or  support  to  despotism,  and 
slavery,  and  the  slave-trade,  and  piracy,  and  robbery,  and  theft, 
and  intemperance,  and  brutal  licentiousness,  and  almost  every 
form  of  sin  you  can  well  conceive. 

How  fast,  then,  must  war  ripen  souls  for  perdition.  It  is  a  hot- 
bed of  wickedness,  a  vast,  prolific  nursery  of  hell.  It  is  Satan's 
master-device  for  the  ruin  of  immortal  souls.  It  sweeps  them  into 
the  bottomless  pit  by  wholesale,  by  thousands  and  millions !  It 
has,  at  one  time  or  another,  made  the  whole  earth  one  vast  slaugh- 
ter-yard of  souls ! 

On  this  point  I  wish^there  were  more  room  for  doubt ;  but  if 
our  Savior  meant  what* he  said  in  telling  us  '  we  must  repent  or 
perish,  must  be  born  again,  or  never  see  tlie  kingdom  of  God ;'  if 
Paul  was  right  in  his  solemn  assurance,  that  "  neither  fornicators, 
nor  adulterers,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revi- 
lers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God,"  how  im- 
possible to  suppose  that  any  considerable  number  of  warriors,  the 
great  mass  of  whom  answer  so  notoriously  to  the  characters  here 
given,  can  ever  enter  the  world  of  glory  I 

How  vast,  then,  the  immediate  ruin  of  souls  by  war  !  Shall  I 
remind  you  of  200,000  lives  lost  by  England  alone  in  our  Revolu- 
tionary war ;  of  70.000  at  Waterloo  and  Quatre  Bras  ;  of  80,000 
at  Borodino;  of  300,000  at  Arbela;  of  400,000  by  Julius  Caesar  in 
a  single  engagement ;  of  no  less  than  15,000,000  Goths  destroyed 
by  Justinian  in  twenty  years;  of  32,000,000  slain  by  Jenghiz-khan 
alone  in  forty-one  years ;  in  the  wars  of  tlie  Turks,  60,000,000;  in 
those  of  the  Tartars,  80,000,000 !  God  only  knows— I  dare  not 
conjecture — how  many  souls  tliis  custom  may,  in  all  past  time, 
have  sent  into  eternity,  reeking  with  unforgiven  guilt;  for  the 
estimate  of  Dr.  Dick,  the  lowest  I  have  ever  seen,  puts  the  sum 
total  of  its  victims  at  14,000,000,000,  eighteen  times  as  many  as 
all  the  present  population  of  our  globe ! 

Disciples  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  has  this  cause  no  special 
claims  on  you'^  If  peace  is  as  truly  a  part  of  your  religion  as 
repentance  or  faith ;  if  it  must  prevail  over  the  whole  earth  before 
the  millennium  can  ever  come  ;  if  it  is  so  essential  to  the  success 
of  the  gospel  in  Christian  lands,  and  to  its  spread  and  triumph 
through  the  world;  if  the  salvation  of  souls  is  an  object  for  which 
God  gave  up  his  own  Son  to  the  manger  and  tlie  cross,  provided 
all  the  means  of  grace,  and  required  his  people  to  pray,  and  toil, 
and  be  willing  even  to  suffer  and  die  ;  if  war  has  ever  been  such 
a  wholesale  destroyer  of  souls,  and  done  so  much  to  prevent  their 
conversion  both  at  home  and  abroad  ;  will  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  the  God  of  Peace,  can  you  refuse  to  such  a  cause  as  this  your 
cheerful,  zealous,  efficient  support? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


No.  MI. 
WAR  AND   THE  HEARTH, 

OR 
THE    INFLUENCE    OF    WAR    ON    DOMESTIC    HAPPINESS. 


The  custom  of  war,  hostile  to  all  the  interests  of  mankind,  is 
peculiarly  fatal  to  domestic  happiness.  It  forbids  marriage  to  its 
agents,  and  thus  prevents  the  rise  of  families  among  them,  as  in- 
compatible with  their  vagrant  trade  of  blood.  It  disregards  and 
rudely  sunders  the  bonds  of  home.  To  raise  its  armies,  and  man 
its  fleets,  it  takes  the  brother  from  his  sisters,  and  the  son  from  his 
parents,  the  husband  from  his  wife,  and  the  father  from  his  chil- 
dren ;  nor  can  its  operations  be  carried  on  withput  a  wide  and 
fearful  amount  of  misery  not  only  to  families  reading  in  the  midst 
of  its  ravages,  but  to  a  still  greater  number  connected  with  its 
victims  by  ties  of  kindred  or  affection.  The  single  battle  of  Wa- 
terloo called  forth  wailings  of  domestic  grief  from  a  whole  conti-^ 
nent ;  nor  can  the  slightest  victory  be  won  without  sending  a  tlirill 
of  anguish  unknown  through  the  heart  of  two  nations. 

Just  imagine  the  process  of  manning  a  fleet  or  an  army.  It  is 
indispensable  to  the  war-system,  that  rulers  should  have  authority 
to  force  into  their  service  as  many  of  their  subjects  as  they  please, 
by  any  process  which  they  may  deem  necessary  or  expedient.  In 
some  countries,  they  call  first  for  volunteers ;  yet  most  of  these 
are  obtained  by  false  representations,  or  the  use  of  intoxicating 
drinks.  The  beardless  boy,  the  thriftless  husband,  the  reckless, 
desperate  adventurer,  bereft  of  reason  by  the  maddening  bowl,  are 
coaxed  to  the  fatal  pledge,  and  then  hurried  away  from  home  and 
friends  to  the  camp  or  the  war-ship,  and  forced  into  the  work  of 
human  butchery  as  the  business  of  their  life.  Most  commonly, 
however,  the  ranks  of  war  are  filled  by  some  species  of  compulsion. 
In  England  press-gangs,  in  a  time  of  war,  prowl  around  every  sea- 
port, to  seize  on  any  seaman,  if  not  upon  any  landsman,  they  may 
chance  to  find,  and  drag  him,  hand-cuffed  and  manacled,  on  board 
some  war-ship.  Not  a  poor  man  in  \he  British  empire  is  safe  from 
this  species  of  outrageous  oppression ;  and  yet  has  the  practice 
been  continued  for  so  many  ages  as  now  to  form  a  part  of  the 
common  law  of  the  land,  and  to  be  justified  not  only  by  popular 
leaders  in  Parliament,  but  by  grave,  upright  judges,  the  brightest 
luminaries  of  English  law,  as  indispensable  to  her  war-system  ! 

Nor  is  the  process  of  procuring  recruits  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  less  fatal  to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  families.  Its  vast 
armies  are  raised  mainly  by  conscription;  a  species  of  compulsion 
the  practical  workings  of  which  are  truly  and  touchingly  sketched 

p.  T.       NO.  LII. 


9  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  458 

by  an  English  poet  in  the  following  tale  of  a  French  prisoner  who 
fell  under  his  notice : 

♦'  Once  I  beheld  a  captive,  whom  Ihe  wars 
Had  made  an  uimale  of  the  prison-house, 
Cheering-  with  wicker-work  his  dreary  hours. 
I  asked  his  story.     In  my  native  tongue, 
(Long  use  liad  made  it  easy  as  his  own,) 
He  answered  Urns  :    Before  these  wars  began, 
I  dwelt  upon  the  willowy  banks  of  Loire. 
I  married  one  who  from  my  boyish  days 
Had  been  my  playmate.     One  morn,  I'll  ne'er  forget, 
While  choosing-  out  the  fairest  little  twigs, 
To  warp  a  cradle  for  our  child  unborn. 
We  heard  the  tidings,  that  the  couscript-Iot 
Had  fallen  on  me.     It  came  like  a  death-knell. 
The  mother  perished  ;  but  the  babe  sur\'ived  j 
And,  ere  my  parting  day,  his  rocking  couch 
I  made  complete,  and  saw  him  sleepmg  smile — 
The  smile  that  played  erst  on  the  ch  ^ek  of  her, 
Who  lay  clay  cold.     Alas  !  the  hour  soon  came, 
That  forced  my  fettered  arms  to  quit  my  child. 
And  whether  now  he  lives  to  deck  with  flowers 
The  sod  upon  his  mother's  grave,  or  lies 
Beneath  it  by  her  side,  I  ne'er  could  learn. 
1  think  he's  gone ;  and  now  I  only  wish 
For  liberty  and  home,  that  I  may  see. 
And  stretch  myself,  ajid  die  upon  tlteir  grave." 

Of  the  heart-rending  miseries  incident  to  families  from  the  pro- 
gress of  war,  I  hardly  know  where  to  begin,  or  where  to  end  the 
illustrations  furnished  in  all  ages.  Think  of  a  siege  or  a  battle, 
of  a  party  of  lawless,  ruthless  marauders,  or  the  march  of  a  brutal, 
exasperated  army  through  a  hostile  or  even  a  friendly  country. 
'It  is  difficult,'  says  an  eye-witness,  'for  the  inhabitants  of  a 
peaceful  territory  to  conceive  the  miseries  incident  to  the  theatre 
of  such  a  sanguinary  contest  as  that  between  the  French  and  the 
allied  forces.  While  Napoleon,  hemmed  in  on  all  sides,  now 
menaced  one  of  his  foes,  and  now  sprang  furiously  upon  another, 
the  scene  of  this  desultory  warfare  was  laid  waste  in  the  most 
merciless  manner.  The  soldiers  on  both  parts,  driven  to  despera- 
tion, became  reckless  and  pitiless ;  and,  straggling  from  their 
columns  in  all  directions,  they  committed  every  species  of  excess 
upon  the  people.  The  peasants,  with  their  wives  and  children, 
fled  to  caves,  quarries  and  woods,  where  the  latter  were  starved  to 
death,  and  the  former,  collecting  into  small  bodies,  increased  the 
terrors  of  war  by  pillaging  the  convoys  of  both  armies,  attacking 
small  parties  of  all  nations,  and  cutting  off  the  sick,  the  wounded, 
and  the  stragglers.  The  repeated  advance  and  retreat  of  the  con- 
tending armies  exasperated  these  evils ;  for  every  fresh  band  of 
plunderers  that  arrived,  was  savagely  eager  after  spoil  in  propor- 
tion as  the  gleaning  became  scarce.  In  the  words  of  Scripture, 
*  what  the  locust  left,  was  devoured  by  the  palmor-worm  ;'  what 
escaped  the  Baskirs,  and  Kirgas,  and  Croats  of  the  Wolga,  the 
Caspian,  and  Turkish  frontier,  was  seized  by  the  half-starved  con- 
scripts of  Napoleon,  whom  want,  hardship,  and  an  embittered 


459  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  3 

spirit  rendered  as  careless  of  the  ties  of  country  as  the  others  were 
indifferent  to  the  general  claims  of  humanity.  The  towns  and 
villages  that  were  the  scenes  of  actual  conflict,  were  frequently 
burnt  to  the  ground ;  and  thus  was  the  distress  of  the  people  vastly 
increased  by  extending  the  terrors  of  battle,  with  its  accompani- 
ments of  slaughter,  fire  and  famine,  into  the  most  remote  and  se- 
questered districts.  Even  the  woods  afforded  no  concealment,  the 
churches  no  sanctuary  ;  nor  did  the  grave  itself  protect  the  relics 
of  mortality.  The  villages  were  every  where  burnt,  the  farms 
wasted  and  pillaged,  the  abodes  of  man,  and  all  that  belongs  to 
peaceful  industry  and  domestic  comfort,  desolated  and  destroyed 
to  such  a  degree,  that  wolves  and  other  savage  animals  increased 
fearfully  in  the  districts  thus  laid  waste  by  human  hands,  ferocious 
as  their  own.' 

Let  me  quote  a  few  facts  from  the  late  wars  of  Europe.  Every 
reader  of  history  is  familiar  with  the  terrible  assault  of  the  repub- 
lican forces  upon  Toulon.  From  tlie  heights  of  Pharan  they  at 
length  poured  down  such  vollies  of  musketry  and  grape-shot,  that 
the  English  and  Spaniards  who  had  come  to  the  relief  of  the  place, 
were  compelled  to  retreat,  and  seek  refuge  in  their  ships.  And 
now  ensued  a  scene  of  overwhelming  confusion  and  distress.  The 
wretched  inhabitants  followed  them  in  crowds  to  the  beach,  and 
implored  their  protection.  Great  efforts  were  made  to  convey 
as  many  as  possible  on  board  the  ships ;  numbers  of  miserable 
wretches  vainly  plunged  for  this  purpose  into  the  sea ;  and  others 
still  left  behind,  shot  themselves  to  avoid  a  more  terrible  death 
from  their  enraged  assailants.  Thus  were  the  ships  loaded  with  a 
heterogeneous  mixture  of  different  nations,  with  men,  women  and 
infants,  with  the  sick  of  the  hospitals,  and  mangled  soldiers  from 
their  posts  with  their  wounds  undressed ;  while  the  whole  harbor 
resounded  with  the  cries  of  distraction  and  agony  for  husbands, 
wives  and  children  left  on  shore.  The  scene  was  horrible  beyond 
description,  and  rendered  still  more  so  by  the  flames  of  the  city 
rapidly  spreading  in  every  direction,  and  blazing  ships  threatening 
every  moment  to  explode,  and  blow  all  around  into  the  air. 

Glance  at  a  specimen  or  two  of  the  miseries  inflicted  by  a  re- 
treating army..  'Murder  and  devastation,'  says  an  eye-witness, 
'  marked  the  footsteps  of  the  French  in  their  retreat  from  Portugal ; 
every  house  was  a  sepulchre,  a  cabin  of  horrors !  In  one  small 
village,  I  counted  seventeen  dead  bodies  of  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren ;  and  most  of  the  houses  were  burnt  to  the  ground.  In  a 
small  toAvn  called  Safrea,  I  saw  twelve  dead  bodies  lying  in  one 
house  upon  the  floor ;  and  every  house  contained,  traces  of  their 
wanton  barbarity.' — 'Often  were  the  ditches,'  says  another,  'lite^ 
rally  filled  with  clotted,  coagulated  blood,  as  with  mire  ;  the  bodies 
of  peasants,  put  to  death  like  dogs,  were  lying  there  horribly  man- 
gled ;  little  naked  infants,  only  a  year  old  or  less,  were  found  be- 
smeared in  the  mud  of  the  road,  transfixed  with  bayonet  wounds  ; 
and  in  one  instance  I  myself  saw  a  babe,  not  more  than  a  month 
old,  with  the  bayonet  left  still  sticking  in  its  neck  ! ' 

Let  us  listen  to  the  tale  of  an  English  officer  on  the  same  ill- 


4  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  460 

fated  field.  "  Immediately  after  the  capture  of  Ciudad  Rodrigo, 
our  soldiers,  setting  all  restraint  at  defiance,  and  impelled  by  a 
brutish  frenzy,  gave  loose  to  the  foulest  passions.  Dispersed  in 
parties  of  from  tour  to  thirty,  they  butchered  the  stragglers  of  the 
flying  garrison,  plundered  the  houses  of  the  citizens,  ransacked 
their  cellars  for  liquor,  and,  brutalized  by  intoxication,  sallied  forth, 
yelling,  and  holding  an  infernal  carnival  of  riot  and  burning,  vio- 
lation and  massacre. 

"  Passing  through  a  narrow  street  with  two  Scottish  sergeants, 
I  heard  the  shriek  of  a  female ;  and,  looking  up,  we  saw  at  an 
open  lattice,  by  the  light  of  the  lamp  she  bore,  a  girl  about  sixteen, 
her  hair  and  dress  disordered,  and  the  expression  of  her  olive 
countenance  marked  with  anguish  and  extreme  terror.  A  savage 
in  scarlet  uniform  dragged  her  backward,  accompanying  the  act 
vith  the  vilest  execrations  in  English.  We  entered  the  court-yard, 
where  the  hand  of  rapine  had  spared  us  the  necessity  of  forcing  a 
passage ;  and  my  companions,  armed  for  whatever  might  ensue, 
kept  steadily  by  me  until  we  arrived  at  a  sort  of  corridor,  from  the 
extremity  of  which  issued  the  tones  of  the  same  feminine  voice 
imploring  mercy  in  the  Spanish  tongue.  Springing  forward,  my 
foot  slipped  in  a  pool  of  blood ;  and,  before  I  could  recover,  the 
door  of  tlie  apartment  whither  we  were  hurrying,  opened,  and  two 
soldiers  of  mv  own  company  discharged  their  muskets  at  us, 
slightly  wounding  one  of  the  gallant  Scots.  Intemperance  had 
blinded  the  ruffians,  and  frustrated  their  murderous  intentions. 
We  felled  them  to  the  ground,  and  penetrated  into  the  chamber, 
where  I  had  a  hair-breadth  escape  from  falling  by  the  fury  of  an- 
other of  the  desperadoes.  Parrying  his  bayonet  which  he  aimed 
at  my  breast,  I  could  not  prevent  its  taking  a  less  dangerous 
course,  and  lacerating  my  left  cheek  nearly  from  the  lip  to  the 
eye ;  a  frightful  gash,  but  a  light  matter  in  comparison  with  the 
wretchedness  visible  around  me. 

'•  The  room  wherein  we  stood,  contained  the  remnants  of  those " 
decent  elegancies  which  belong  to  the  stranger's  apartment  in  a 
dwelling  of  the  middle  class.  Mutilated  pictures,  and  fragments 
of  expensive  mirrors  strewed  the  floor,  which  was  uncarpeted,  and 
formed  of  different  kinds  of  wood  curiously  tesselated.  An  ebony 
cabinet,  doubtless  a  venerable  heir-loom,  had  suffered  as  if  from 
the  stroke  of  a  sledge.  Its  contents,  consisting  of  household  docu- 
ments, and  touching  domestic  memorials,  were  scattered  about  at 
random.  An  antique  sideboard  lay  overturned,  and  a  torn  mantilla 
on  a  sofa  ripped,  and  stained  with  wine.  The  white  drapery,  on 
which  fingers  steeped  in  gore  had  left  their  traces,  hung  raggedly 
from  the  walls. 

"  Pinioning  our  prisoners,  we  barricaded  the  doors  against  in- 
trusion, and  proceeded  to  oflfer  all  the  assistance  and  consolation 
in  our  power  to  the  inmates  of  the  desecrated  mUnsion.  On  in- 
vestigation, the  sergeants  found  the  dead  body  of  a  domestic  whose 
fusil  and  dagger  showed  that  he  had  fought  for  the  roof  which 
covered  him.  His  beard  hnd  been  burned  in  derision  with  gun- 
powder, and  one  of  his  oars  was  cut  off",  and  thrust  into  his  mouth  ! 


461  V  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  5 

In  a  garret  recess  for  the  storage  of  fruit,  two  female  servants 
were  hidden,  who  could  scarcely  be  persuaded  that  they  ha<l 
nothing  to  fear.  Having  fled  thither  at  the  approach  of  their  fero- 
cious intruders,  they  had  suffered  neither  injury  nor  insult.  They 
came  t-o  the  room  where  I  lingered  over  an  object  unconscious, 
alas!  of  my  commiseration,  and  calling,  in  accents  half  choked  by 
.sobs,  upon  Donna  Clara !  I  pointed  to  the  alcove  where  the  heart- 
broken lady  had  flung  herself  on  the  bleeding  corpse  of  her  gray- 
haired  father.  She  too  might  have  had  a  sheltering  place,  could 
her  filial  piety  have  permitted  her  to  remain  there  when  her  high- 
spirited  sire  feebly  strove  to  repel  the  violaters  of  his  hearth. 
Master  of  a  few  Spanish  phrases,  I  used  them  in  addressing  some 
words  of  comfort  to  the  ill-starred  girl.  They  were  to  her  as  the 
song  of  the  summer-bird  carolled  to  despair.  Her  sole  return  was 
a  faintly  recurring  plaint  which  seemed  to  say,  '  let  my  soul  depart 
in  peace ! '  I  motioned  to  her  attendants  to  separate  her  from  her 
father's  corpse ;  but  they  could  not  do  it  without  a  degree  of  force 
bordering  on  violence.  Bidding  them  desist,  I  signified  a  desire 
that  they  should  procure  some  animating  restorative.  A  flask  of 
wine  was-  brought.  The  sergeants  wijthdrew.  One  of  the  women 
held  the  lamp,  while  the  other  gently  raised  the  head  of  her  mis- 
tress. Kneeling  by  the  couch  in  the  alcove,  I  poured  a  little  of 
the  liquor  into  a  glass,  applied  it  to  her  lips,  and  then  took  it  away, 
until  I  had  concealed  ray  uniform  beneath  the  torn  mantilla. 

"  I  bless  an  all-merciful  God  that  I  have  not  a  second  time  been 
doomed  to  witness  aught  so  overwhelming  in  wo  as  the  situation 
of  that  young  and  beautiful  creature  I  She  had  battled  with  a 
might  exceeding  the  strength  of  her  sex,  against  nameless  indig- 
nities, and  she  bore  the  marks  of  the  conflict.  Her  maidenly  attire 
was  rent  into  shapelessness ;  her  brow  was  bruised  and  swollen ; 
her  abundant  hair,  almost  preternaturally  black,  streamed  wildly 
over  her  bosom,  revealing  in  its  interstices  fresh  waving  streaks 
of  crimson  which  confirmed  the  tale  of  ultra-barbarian  violence ; 
and  her  cheek  had  borrowed  the  same  fatal  hue  from  the  neck  of 
her  slaughtered  parent,  to  whom,  in  her  insensibility,  she  still 
clung  with  love  strong  in  death!  Through  the  means  adopted, she 
gave  tokens  of  reviving.  Her  hand  still  retained  a  small  gold 
cross,  and  she  raised  it  to  her  lips.  The  clouded  lids  were  slowly 
expanded  from  her  large  dark  eyes.  A  low,  agonizing  moan  fol- 
lowed. I  hastened  to  present  the  wine  ;  but  in  the  act  the  man- 
tilla, concealing  my  uniform,  fell  from  the  arm  which  conveyed 
the  glass.  She  shrieked  appallingly,  became  convulsed,  passed 
from  fit  to  fit,  and  expired  ! " 

Nor  is  this  vivid,  truthful  picture  of  the  woes  carried  by  war 
into  the  bosom  of  families,  a  solitary  case.  War  abounds  with 
them,  and  cannot  rage  without  multiplying  them  by  hundreds  and 
thousands.  On  the  capture  of  Hamburg  in  1813,  the  soldiers,  with 
drawn  swords  and  loaded  muskets,  ran  from  house  to  house,  de- 
manding of  the  citizens,  your  money  and  your  ivomen,  or  your  liJCf 
TNSTANT5.T  !  All  this,  too,  after  they  had  suffered  during  the  siege 
an  incredible  amount  of  cruelty  and  distress.    The  French  com- 


6  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  462 

mander,  Davoust,  fortified  the  city,  says  Bourienne,  *at  incalcu- 
lable loss  to  the  inhabitants.  From  the  immense  stores  heaped  up 
in  the  place,  the  garrison  was  plentifully  supplied,  while  provisions 
•in  the  town  were  to  be  obtained  with  much  difficulty  even  in  small 
quantities,  and  for  exorbitant  prices.  All  the  horses  were  seized 
for  the  artillery ;  the  best  were  selected,  and  the  rest  slaughtered 
in  the  streets,  and  the  flesh  distributed  to  the  soldiers,  while  the 
inhabitants,  pressed  with  famine,  bought  the  hides  at  a  dear  rate. 
At  length  provisions  began  to  fail  in  December,  and  all  useless 
mouths  were  ordered  to  leave  the  city  on  pain  of  receiving  fifty 
strokes  of  the  bastinado.  Still  the  inhabitants  clung  to  their  natal 
soil ;  and  there  was  issued  on  the  25th  an  order  which  declared 
that,  out  of  compassion,  twenty-four  hours  longer  would  be  granted, 
when  all  found  in  the  city,  who  could  not  contribute  to  its  defence, 
should  be  considered  as  in  league  with  the  enemy,  and  conse- 
quently liable  to  be  shot !  But  even  this  was  not  enough ;  and  on 
one  of  the  last  and  coldest  nights  in  December,  all  the  proscribed, 
without  distinction  of  age  or  sex,  health  or  sickness,  were  torn 
from  their  beds,  and  carried  beyond  the  walls.' 

What  safety  or  repose  for  families  during  an  assault  iipon  the 
city  where  they  dwell !  When  the  English  fleet  was  bombarding 
Copenhagen,  and  every  woman  and  child  was  flying  in  terror  from 
the  destructive  missiles,  and  from  burning  and  falling  houses,  a 
little  child  was  seen  running  across  the  street  for  shelter  he  knew 
not  where,  when  a  rocket  struck  the  poor  innocent,  and  dashed 
him  to  pieces !  In  1845,  an  old  bomb-shell,  dug  out  of  the  sand, 
and  brought  into  the  city  of  New  York  to  be  used  as  old  iron, 
accidentally  exploded,  and  killed  several  men.  *  Guided  by  hun- 
dreds who  w^ere  rushing  to  the  spot,'  says  an  eye-witness,  '  I  en- 
tered Charlton  street,  and  observed  on  both  sides  for  some  distance, 
that  the  windows  were  entirely  demolished,  the  doors  shattered, 
and  holes  actually  blown  through  the  sides  of  the  houses,  large 
enough  in  one  case,  some  forty  rods  from  the  spot  of  the  explosion, 
for  a  man  to  enter.  Upon  tlie  side-walk  in  front  of  a  shop  of  old 
iron,  lay  some  thirty  or  forty  rusty  bomb-shells  about  eight  inches 
in  diameter.  It  was  said  by  the  crowd,  that  a  man  had  one  of 
these  between  his  knees,  endeavoring  to  loosen  the  charge  with  a 
stick,  when  it  exploded,  and  produced  the  terrible  scene  before  me. 
The  body  of  the  man  was  torn  to  pieces,  and  scattered  through 
the  streets.  Observing  a  crowd  around  an  object  at  a  short  dis- 
tance, I  approached,  and  saw  apparently  a  large  piece  of  butcher's 
meat  which  a  boy  was  pushing  about  with  his  foot ; — it  proved  to 
be  the  lower  part  of  a  man's  leg,  with  the  crushed  bones,  and  man- 
gled flesh !  '  The  othnr  leg,'  said  a  by-stander,  '  was  blown  over 
into  Hudson  street'  I  saw  a  crowd  collected  around  a  window- 
sill,  gazing  at  some  object; — it  was  a  man's  hand,  torn  from  his 
body,  and  thrown  with  violence  against  the  wall,  the  fingers  burnt, 
and  crushed,  and  blackened.  The  mangled  trimk  of  the  unfortu- 
nate man,  headless  and  limbless,  had  been  carried  into  the  house, 
and  the  shrieks  of  his  wife  were  now  heard  over  the  bloody  re- 
mains.   Upon  an  iron  window  frame  lay  the  torn  body  of  another 


463 


WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH. 


man,  already  dead,  and  his  blood  and  brains  dripping  down  upon 
the  pavement.  Two  younj  men,  who  happened  to  be  passing  by 
in  the  middle  of  the  street,  were  literally  blown  up  into  the  air, 
and  fell  with  broken  an(|  mangled  limbs,  and  both  died  the  next 
day.  Such  was  the  horrid  execution  of  a  single  shell ;  and  yet 
Napoleon,  in  less  than  ten  hours,  threw  three  thousand  such  pro- 
jectiles into  the  heart  of  Vienn:^,  three  hundred  every  hour,  five 
every  minute,  crashing  through  the  roofs  of  dwellings,  and  ex- 
ploding at  the  tireside,  in  the  infant's  cradle,  or  on  the  couches  of 
the  sick!' 

I  will  not  here  quote  such  horrid  instances  as  Magdeburg  in 
the  seventeenth  century;  but  look  at  Dresden  in  1813.  'To  the 
public  distress  from  other  causes,  were  added  the  ravages  of  a 
contagious  fever  among  the  inhabitants.  No  less  than  three  hun- 
dred of  the  citizens  alone  were  carried  off  by  it  every  week ;  and 
two  hundred  dead  bodies  were  every  day  brought  out  of  the  mili- 
tary hospitals.  Such  was  t'le  accumulation  in  the  church-yards, 
that  the  grave-diggers  could  not  inter  them ;  and  they  were  laid 
naked,  in  ghastly  rows,  along  the  place  of  sepulture.  The  bodies 
were  heaped  in  such  numbers  on  the  dead  carts,  that  they  fre- 
quently fell  from  them  ;  and  the  wheels  gave  a  frightful  sound  in 
cracking  the  bones  of  the  bodies  which  thus  lay  in  the  streets. 
The  hospital  attendants  and  carters  trampled  down  the  corpses  in 
the  carts,  like  baggage  or  straw,  to  make  room  for  more ;  and  not 
unfrequently  some  of  the  bodies  gave  signs  of  life,  and  even  ut- 
tered shrieks,  under  this  harsh  usage!  Several  bodies,  thrown 
into  the  Elbe  for  dead,  were  revived  by  the  sudden  immersion  in 
cold  water ;  and  the  wretches  were  vainly  struggling  in  the  waves 
by  which  they  were  soon  swallowed  up ! ' 

The  battle-field  makes  terrible  havoc  of  domestic  sympathies 
and  hopes.  I  once  read  of  a  devoted  wife  who  left  her  babes,  and 
walked  some  forty  miles  to  see  her  husband  in  the  army.  She 
arrived  the  night  before  a  battle,  and  contrived,  by  a  dexterous 
appeal  to  the  sentinel's  heart,  to  gain  admission  to  her  husband's 
tent.  The  hours  sped  swiftly  away,  and  the  dawn  heard  the  signal 
for  battle.  She  hurried  from  his  fond  embrace  with  many  a  tender 
kiss  for  his  babes,  but  lingered  near  the  scene,  and  watched  from 
a  neighboring  hill  every  movement  of  the  two  armies,  until  the 
combat  ceased,  and  all  was  quiet  once  more.  The  shades  of  night 
now  hang  in  gloom  over  that  battle-ground,  and  forbid  all  search 
for  the  wounded,  the  dying,  or  the  dead.  Morn  approaches ;  and 
with  its  earliest  dawn  this  faithful  wife,  with  a  throbbing  heart, 
wanders  over  that  field  of  slaughter  to  see  if  the  father  of  her 
babes  has  fallen.  •  Alas,  it  is  too  true !  There  he  is,  all  covered 
with  gore.    She  sinks  on  his  bosom  in  a  swoon,  and  rises  no  more ! 

"  For .  two  or  three  days  after  the  battle  of  Vittoria,'-'  says  a 
British  officer,  "  I  was  employed  in  collecting  the  guns  and  va- 
rious articles  scattered  over  the  battle-ground,  and  along  the  road. 
In  one  part,  very  near  a  half-destroyed  barouche,  I  found  a  very 
interesting  and  beautiful  letter  written  in  English,  and  addressed 
to  his  wife  by  a  Monsieur  Thiebault,  once  treasurer  to  Joseph 


8  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  4G4 

Bonaparte.  With  a  little  trouble,  I  discovered  not  less  than  twenty- 
written  by  the  same  person  in  the  same  amiable  and  affectionate 
strain.  I  gathered  them  up,  and  carried  them  home,  rejoicing  in 
my  treasure.  In  the  evening  I  went  to  a  cafe,  and  seeing  tliere 
several  of  the  French  officers  who  had  been  taken,  I  asked  one  if 
he  knew  a  Mons.  Thiebault.^  *  Extremely  well,'  he  replied  ;  'he 
was  killed  the  other  day  by  a  chance-shot  among  the  baggage ; 
his  son,  now  a  prisoner,  is  quite  disconsolate;  and  his  wife,  a  most 
sweet  woman,  a  native  of  Scotland,  left  only  the  day  before  for 
Bayonne,  and  is  still  ignorant  of  her  irreparable  loss.'  " — There  was 
another  touching  case  in  the  same  battle.  "  A  pay-master  of  a 
British  regiment  had  two  sons  in  his  own  regiment,  both  lieuten- 
ants. He  was  a  widower,  and  had  no  relations  beside  those  youths ; 
they  lived  in  his  tent,  and  were  his  pride  and  delight  The  civil 
staff  usually  remain  with  the  baggage  when  the  troops  engage, 
and  join  them  with  it  afterwards  ;  and  when  this  pay-master  came 
up  in  the  evening,  an  officer  met  him.  'My  boys,'  said  the  old 
man,  '  how  are  they  ?   Have  they  done  their  duty  ? '     '  They  have 

behaved  most  nobly  ;  but  you  have  lost ' '  Which  of  them  ? ' 

'  Alas  !  sir,  both  are  dead.'  " 

In  a  sea-fight  of  the  ship  Swallow,  a  seaman  named  Phelan  had 
a  wife  on  board  stationed,  as  usual,  to  assist  the  surgeon  in  his 
care  of  the  wounded  as  they  were  brought  below.  Among  these 
was  one  of  Phelan's  messmates  whose  dying  agonies  she  was  en- 
deavoring to  console,  when  she  chanced  to  hear  that  her  husband 
was  wounded,  and,  rushing  instantly  on  deck,  she  received  the 
wounded  tar  in  her  arms.  He  faintly  raised  his  head  to  kiss  her. 
She  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  told  him,  like  a  true  wife,  to 
take  courage,  all  might  yet  be  well ;  but  scarcely  had  she  uttered 
the  last  syllable,  when  a  shot  took  off  her  head !  The  poor  tar, 
closely  folded  in  her  arms,  opened  his  eyes  once  more,  then  shut 
them  forever! 

At  the  siege  of  Antwerp  in  1833,  a  young  French  officer  fell  in 
the  trenches ;  and  his  father,  on  being  informed  of  his  death,  has- 
tened from  Paris  to  fetch  his  body.  From  Marshal  Gerard  he  ob- 
tained permission  to  take  away  the  beloved  remains,  that  his  wife 
might  once  more  see  her  son  even  in  death.  They  Avere  laid  in 
an  open  shell,  and  wrapped  in  a  Avinding  sheet,  but  so  as  to  leave 
the  faoe  and  neck  exposed.  Though  the  youth  had  been  dead 
fifteen  days,  his  corpse  yet  looked  fresh.  The  shell  containing  it 
was  placed  lengthwise  in  a  carriage  so  narrow,  that,  in  sitting  by 
the  side  of  it,  the  father's  arm  rested  on  the  breast  of  his  son ;  but 
the  venerable  old  man  bore  this  trying  situation  with  great  firm- 
ness. Having  rested  at  Brussels,  he  prepared,  at  the  midnight 
hour,  to  proceed  with  his  precious  charge ;  and  calmly  seating 
himself  by  its  side,  he  merely  remarked,  "  I  shall  now  ride  with 
my  dear  son  for  the  last  time."  Thus  he  bore  those  remains  to  the 
fond  mother;  but  her  anguish  over  them  can  be  better  imagined 
than  described. 

What  domestic  desolation  must  come  from  such  a  battle  as  that 
of  Waterloo,  or  a  campaign  like  that  of  Napoleon  in  Russia !  The 


465  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  0 

former  was  said  to  have  clothed  no  small  part  of  England  in 
mourning;  and  of  the  latter  Bourienne  exclaims,  "How  many 
wives  and  mothers  in  France  could  not,  without  a  palpitating  heart, 
break  the  cover  of  the  official  g-azclte  !  How  many  families  lost 
their  support  and  their  liope !  Never  Avere  more  tears  shed.  In 
vain  did  the  cannon  of  the  Invalids  thunder  forth  the  announce- 
ment of  a  victory.     How  many  thousands,  in  the  silence  of  retire- 

^  ment,were  even  then  preparing  the  external  symbols  of  mourning! 

,■    It  is  still  remembered  that  for  the  long  space  of  six  months,  the 

*   black  dresses  of  Paris  presented  a  very  striking  sight  in  every  part 

^     of  the  city." 

Glance  at  one  scene  in  the  campaign  of  1794-5.  *We  could 
not,'  says  an  eye-witness,  '  proceed  a  hundred  yards  without  per- 
ceiving the  dead  bodies  of  men,  women  and  children.     One  scene 

■  made  an  impression  which  time  can  never  efface.  Near  a  cart  we 
•'  saw  a  stout  looking  man,  and  a  beautiful  young  woman  with  an 
infant  about  seven  months  old  at  the  breast,  all  tliree  frozen  and 
dead  !  The  mother  must  have  expired  in  the  act  of  suckling  her 
child,  as  she  lay  on  the  drifted  snow  with  one  breast  exposed,  and 
the  milk  apparently  drawn  in  a  stream  from  the  nipple  by  the 
babe,  and  instantly  congealed.  The  infant  seemed  as  if  its  lips 
had  but  just  been  disengaged,  and  its  little  head  reposed  on  its 
mother's  bosom  with  an  overflow  of  milk  frozen  as  it  trickled  from 
the  mouth.' 

;  There  is  another  class  of  domestic  sufferings  from  war  at  which 
decency  blushes.  I  will  not  stain  these  pages  witli  minute  exam- 
ples ;  but  take  a  case  of  suicidal  escape  from  such  outrages.  A 
subaltern  officer  in  Russia,  having  conceived  a  passion  for  a  fine 
looking  peasant  girl,  used  every  art  to  win  her  affections ;  but, 
finding  all  his  efforts  ineffectual,  he  applied  to  the  commanding 
officer  v/ho  immediately  issued  an  ocder  for  the  couple  to  be  forth- 

^-  with  joined  in  wedlock.  The  parents  remonstrated,  but  in  vain. 
The  day  fixed  for  the  marriage  arrived,  and  the  boor  accompanied 
his  devoted  daughter;  but, just  as  the  priest  was  about  to  legalize 
the  union,  the  aged  father,  in  a  fit  of  desperation,  plunged  a  knife 
into  her  heart,  and,  presenting  her  to  the  soldier,  exclaimed,  '  there, 
sir,  is  your  victim  ! ' 

How  much  do  the  poor  in  their  humble  abodes  suffer  from  war ! 
Take  two  cases  of  privateering  related  by  the  perpetrators  them- 
selves. '  These  prizes  are  of  little  or  no  value  to  us,'  remarks  one, 
*  because  we  can  get  nobody  to  purchase  them ;  but  the  poor,  un- 
happy people  who  lose  them,  have  lost  their  all.  It  would  need  a 
heart  of  stone  to  see  the  borrow  painted  on  their  countenances 
when  brought  on  board.  Some  of  them  retire  into  corners,  and 
Weep  like  children.  If  you  ask  what  is  the  matter,  a  flood  of  tears 
is  the  answer.  SometiiTies  you  will  hear  them  sob  out — My  wife! 
my  ch'ldren!  O  what  will  become  ofihem'^  I  have  been  more  than 
once  obliged  to  avoid  the  affecting  sight,  unable  to  restrain  my 
own  tears,  or  to  prevent  theirs.  It  is  far  worse  when  a  capture  is 
made  after  an  engagement — the  mangled  bodies  of  my  fellow- 
creatures  lying  pale  and  breathless  on  the  deck,  some  dying,  and 


10  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  466 

others  begging  me  to  put  them  out  of  their  miseries,  while  a  hun- 
gry dog  is  lapping  up  the  blood  that  streams  all  about  the  ship  !  '-- 
♦  We  were  sonie  ten  miles  from  Marseilles,'  says  the  narrator  or 
the  otlier case,  'when  we  saw  a  small  vessel  anchored  in  a  narrow 
bay  ;  and,  fierce  for  prize-money,  we  manned  a  boat,  and  pushed 
forward  till  we  came  within  pistol-shot  of  the  craft,  without  seeing 
any  one  except  an  old  woman  seated  in  the  door  of  a  cottage  at 
some  distance.  Just  then  a  musket-shot  from  behind  a  rock  laid 
our  bowman  a  corpse,  another  disabled  our  marine,  a  third  tore  his 
cravat  from  the  lieutenant's  neck,  and  a  fourth  crippled  the  cox- 
swain's arm.  Still  we  saw  no  one ;  and,  exasperated  by  these  dis- 
charges, we  gave  three  cheers,  and,  pulling  for  the  place  whence 
they  seemed  to  come,  saw  at  length  a  man  and  a  boy  running  from 
us.  We  interchanged  several  shot"?  in  vain,  until  the  lieutenant, 
resting  his  musket  on  a  rock,  shot  the  child  while  in  the  act  of 
handing  a  cartridge  to  the  man.  The  father  instantly  threw  down 
his  musket,  and  fell  by  the  side  of  his  son.  We  seized  his  musket ; 
but  he  paid  no  attention  to  us.  When  we  bade  him  follow  us,  he 
heeded  us  not ;  but,  with  the  child's  head  in  his  lap,  he  kept  wip- 
ing away  the  blood  that  oozed  from  tlie  wound  in  his  forehead,  and 
neither  wept  nor  spoke,  but  watched  the  last  chilling  shiver  of  his 
boy  with  an  eye  of  inexpressible  sadness.  Then  he  jumped  from 
the  ground  with  a  frantic  air ;  the  marine  brought  his  bayonet  to 
the  charge,  and  the  miserable  father  tried  to  run  upon  its  point ; 
but  the  marine,  dropping  his  musket,  encircled  him  in  his  arms. 
We  desired  him  to  lead  us  to  the  cottage.  The  marine  carried 
the  corpse,  and  the  father  walked  by  its  side  in  silence,  till  we 
suddenly  came  upon  the  rear  of  the  cottage.  The  old  woman  was 
still  at  her  wheel,  and,  on  discovering  her  son  a  prisoner,  gave  a 
shriek  which  announced  to  a  lovely  female  in  the  hut  that  some- 
thing painful  had  occurred.  She  rushed  to  assist  her  mother — her 
eye  fell  first  upon  her  dead  son  in  the  arms  of  an  enemy ;  and,^ 
seizing  the  boy,  she  tore  him  from  the  marine,  kissed  him  more" 
like  a  maniac  than  a  mother,  and,  giving  one  deep,  piercing  sigh, 
fell  at  her  mother's  feet  We  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  has- 
tened away ;  but  that  scene  I  can  never  blot  from  my  memory.' 

The  late  English  war  in  China  furnishes  some  revolting  in- 
stances of  the  domestic  desolation  consequent  on  this  trade  of 
blood.  '  In  almost  every  house  the  children  had  been  madly  mur- 
dered. The  bodies  of  most  of  these  victims  were  found  lying 
usually  in  the  chambers  of  the  women,  as  if  each  father  had  as- 
sembled his  whole  family  before  the  massacre  ;  in  some  instances 
these  poor  little  suflTerers  were  the  next  day  still  breathing,  and 
writhing  in  the  agony  of  a  broken  spine ;  the  way  in  which  they 
were  usually  put  to  death.  In  one  house  were  found  in  a  single 
room  the  bodies  of  seven  dead  and  dying  persons.  It  was  evidently 
the  abode  of  a  man  of  some  consideration  ;  and  the  delicate  forms 
and  features  of  the  suflferers  indicated  the  high  elevation  of  their 
rank.  On  the  floor,  .essaying  in  vain  to  put  food  into  the  mouths 
of  two  young  children  that  were  writhing  in  the  agonies  of  death 
from  dislocated  spines,  sat  a  decrepit  old  man,  weeping  bitterly  at 


467  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  11 

the  piteous  moans  and  convulsive  breathings  of  the  poor  infants. 
On  a  bed  near  these  children,  lay  a  beautiful  young  woman  appa- 
rently asleep ;  bat  she  was  cold>  and  had  long  been  dead.  One 
arm  clasped  her  neck,  over  which  a  silk  scarf  was  thrown  to  con- 
ceal the  gash  in  her  throat  which  had  destroyed  life.  Near  her 
was  the  corpse  of  a  woman  somewhat  older,  her  features  distorted 
as  if  she  had  died  by  strangulation  ;  not  far  from  her  lay  a  dead 
child  stabbed  through  the  neck ;  and  in  a  narrow  verandah  adjoin- 
ing, were  the  corpses  of  two  more  women  suspended  by  tlieir 
necks  from  the  rafters.  They  were  both  young,  one  quite  a  girl ; 
and  her  features,  in  spite  of  their  hideous  distortion  from  the  mode 
of  her  death,  still  retained  traces  of  their  original  beauty.' 

Let  us  select  two  instances  from  the  war  of  our  own  revolution. 
A  state  of  fierce,  almost  savage  exasperation  existed  between  the 
whigs  and  tories  ;  and. a  party  of  the  latter,  on  capturing  a  Capt. 
Huddy  from  New  Jersey,  barbarously  hung  him  with  an  insulting 
label  on  his  bosom.  This  excited  general  indignation,  and  the 
people  of  that  state  urged  Washington  to  secure  justice  for  the 
murder,  or  make  retaliation.  A  grand  council  of  war  held  on  the 
subject,  came  to  the  unanimous  conclusion,  that  there  should  be 
retaliation,  that  the  victim  should  be  of  equal  rank  with  Capt 
Huddy,  and  be  designated  by  lot.  The  lot  fell  on  Capt.  Asgill,  a 
young  man  of  nineteen,  the  only  son  of  a  British  nobleman.  When 
the  tidings,  which  interested  many  in  his  fate,  reached  England, 
his  sister  was  sick  with  a  delirious  fever,  and  his  father  so  near 
his  end  that  his  family  did  not  venture  to  inform  him  of  the  affair. 
The  mother  applied  to  the  king  and  queen  in  behalf  of  her  son, 
and  wrote  an  impassioned  letter  to  tlie  French  minister.  'The 
subject,''  says  she,  '  on  which  I  implore  your  assistance,  is  too 
heart-rending  to  be  dwelt  on.  My  son,  my  only  son,  dear  to  me 
as  he  is  brave,  amiable  as  he  is  beloved,  only  nineteen  years  of 
age,  a  prisoner  of  war,  is  at  present  confined  in  America  as  an 
object  of  reprisal.  Figure  to  yourself,  sir,  the  situation  of  a  family 
in  these  circumstances.  Surrounded  with  objects  of  distress, 
bowed  down  with  grief,  words  are  wanting  to  paint  the  scenes  of 
misery  around  me.  My  husband  given  over  by  his  physicians 
some  hours  before  tJie  arrival  of  this  news,  not  in  a  condition  to 
be  informed  of  it ;  and  my  daughter  attacked  by  a  delirious  fever, 
and  speaking  of  her  brotiier  in  tones  of  wildness  without  any  in- 
terval of  reason,  unless  it  be  to  listen  to  some  circumstances  which 
may  console  her  heart.  Let  your  own  sensibility  conceive  my 
profound,  inexpressible  misery,  and  plead  in  my  favor  for  a  son 
born  to  abundance,  to  independence,  and  the  happiest  prospects. 
Permit  me  once  more  to  entreat  your  interference ;  but,  whether 
my  request  be  granted  or  not,  I  am  confident  you  will  pity  the 
distress  by  which  it  is  prompted,  and  your  humanity  will  drop  a 
tear  on  my  fault,  and  blot  it  out  forever.' 

The  other  case  is  still  more  touching.  Col.  Hayne,  of  South 
Carolina,  a  man  of  high  character,  endeared  to  all  that  knew  his 
worth,  and  bound  fast  to  life  by  six  small  children,  and  a  wife  ten- 
derly beloved,  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  British,  and  sentenced  to* 


12  WAR    AND    THE    HEARTH.  468 

be  hung !  His  wife,  falling  a  victim  to  disease  and  grief  combined, 
did  not  live  to  plead  for  her  husband ;  but  great  and  generous 
efforts  were  made  for  his  rescue.  A  large  number,  both  Americans 
and  Enirlishmen,  interceded  in  his  behalf;  the  ladies  of  Cliarles- 
ton  signed  a  petition  ^or  his  release ;  and  his  six  motlierloss  chil- 
dren were  presented  on  their  knees  as  inmible  suitors  for  the  life 
of  their  father.  It  was  all  i^  vain;  for  war  has  no  heart  but  of 
iron.  His  eldest  son,  a  lad  about  thirteen  years  old,  was  permit- 
ted, as  a  special  favor,  to  stay  with  him  awhile  in  prison.  On 
seeing  his  father  loaded  with  irons,  and  condemned  to  die  on  tlie 
gallows,  the  poor  boy  was  overwhelmed  with  consternation  and 
grief.  The  wretched  father  tried  to  console  him  by  various  con- 
siderations, and  added,  *  to-morrow,  my  son,  I  set  cut  for  immor- 
tality ;  you  will  follow  me  to  the  place  of  my  execution;  and, 
when  I  am  dead,  take  my  body,  and  bury  it  by  the  side  of  your 
dear  mother.'  Overcome  by  this  appeal;  the  boy  threw  his  arms 
around  his  father's  neck,  crying,  *  O  my  father,  I'll  die  with  you! 
I  icili  die  with  you,  father  I '  The  wretched  father,  still  loaded 
down  with  irons,  was  unable  to  return  his  son's  embrace,  and 
merely  said  in  repl}^  '  no,  my  son,  never !  Live  to  honor  God  by  a 
good  life ;  live  to  serve  your  country,  and  to  take  care  of  your 
brother  and  little  sisters.' 

The  next  morning,  Col.  Hayne  was  led  forth  to  execution.  That 
fond  and  faithful  boy  accompanied  him;  and,  when  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  gallows,  the  father  turned  to  him,  and  said,  '  now, 
my  son,  show  yourself  a  man.  That  tree  is  the  boundary  of  my 
life,  and  all  its  sorrows.  Beyond  that,  tlie  wicked  cease  from 
troubling,  find  the  weary  are  forever  at  rest.  Don't,  my  son,  lay 
our  separation  too  much  at  heart ;  it  will  be  short  at  longest.  It 
was  but  the  other  day  your  dear  mother  died ;  to-day  I  die  ;  and 
you,  my  son,  though  young,  must  follow  us.  shortly.'  'Yes,  my 
father,'  replied  the  broken-hearted  boy,  '  I  shall  follow  you  shortly  ; 
for  I  feel  indeed  that  I  can't,  can't  live  long.'  And  so  it  was ;  for, 
on  seeing  his  much-loved  father  first  in  the  hands  of  the  execu- 
tioner, and  tlien  struggling  in  the  halter  from  the  gallows,  he 
stood  transfixed  with  horror.  Till  then  he  had  all  along  wept 
profusely  as  some  relief  to  his  agonized  feelings ;  but  that  sight ! — 
it  dried  up  the  fountain  of  his  tears ; — he  never  wef)t  agair*  His 
reason  reeled  on  the  spot ;  he  became  an  incurable  maniac ;  and 
in  his  last  moments,  he  called  out,  and  kept  calling  out  for  his 
father  in  tones  that  drew  tears  from  the  hardest  hearts. 

Such  is  the  influence  of  war  on  domestic  happiness.  And  mugt 
its  baleful  ravages  still  continue  ?  Shall  such  a  fiend  from  hell 
be  permitted  to  prowl  in  pollution,  blood  and  tears  over  this  only 
Eden  of  earth  ?  Husbands  and  fathers,  wives  and  mothers,  sons 
and  brothers,  sisters  and  daughters  !  will  you  make  no  vigorous, 
determined,  persevering  efforts  to  banish  from  Christendom,  if  not 
from  the  whole  world,  this  deadliest  foe  to  your  present  and  im- 
mortal welfare  ? 

AMERICAN    PEACE    SOCIETY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


i 


14  DAY  USE 

RFTURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recalL 


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